


Passion At Center Stage

by PicturedArtist



Series: Passion At Center Stage [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PicturedArtist/pseuds/PicturedArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slow burn to the dramatic final act. Marinette works as a full time seamstress at Lady Luck; a local Burlesque bar. One fine performer has his eyes on her. Marinette finds herself in a position she can't squeak her way out of. When given the chance, Marinette steps forward where all eyes are on her...center stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Glitz and Glam

It wasn't often that Marinette was in the main lobby of the entertainment hall. Usually it was to cater to the many squawking performers pertaining to their outfits. Sequins and boas were always needing constant attention, and thus she would be at their beck and call. The official stage team included four girls and two guys, not including herself. The main entertainers were blond and, although they drove the crowd wild, they were rarely seen together due to lack of chemistry.

The main female act never deserved the attention she got but it's all how she played on the crowd. With enough lights and fog, anyone can believe someone's a goddess. She called herself “Ladybug” after the many famous burlesque dancers before her. The title was usually given to the lead female. Only problem was, she was meaner than a 7th grader after they figured out your weak spots to tease you with, which meant that no one dared challenge her for the title. Her hair was always in a high ponytail which always made the crowd laugh when she started dancing because they expected her to start a high school cheer at any moment. She tried a little too hard with her makeup, and her moves were sloppy at best.

Unlike her counterpart, she was a mess—always ripping her seams and snapping her props. Marinette ran to her every time to fix her creations, but she would scoff and bat her hand away. She wasn't allowed to help her while she was in the costume. When it came to burlesque dancing, the tighter the outfit, the better. For that to happen, the designer would actually have to touch the piece while the dancer was wearing it--something that Chloe wouldn't allow.

Her outfit left little to the imagination. It was a one piece leotard with holes cut out all over the spandex like a spotted bug. Her boots hugged her spaghetti thighs and clacked when she went on stage. With a red and black feather boa around her neck, she would strut onto the stage donning her ladybug colored mask.

It was tradition at Lady Luck to not show the faces of their dancers. No one was permitted to show their face til they walked out the door. Some were even encouraged to wear the mask home; just in case. This created the illusion Lady Luck stood behind their dancers and promoted their safety. Tikki worried about her girls. She insisted that wearing at least a half mask would throw people off their trail. The ladybug mask was the only thing passed down from the predecessor. Every night, Chloe, would argue about the mask and would try to go on stage without it. Every night Marinette would have to strap it onto her face whether or not she was kicking and screaming.

That night was a bad night; three of the waitresses walked out hand in hand and left the bar side of the venue empty. It wasn't really a suggestion when Marinette's manager shoved an apron at her. The apron was just a few pockets sewn onto ladybug colored fabric. Lady Luck was a burlesque theater that adored it's legacy. Each of the waitstaff wore half masks that whirled away in swirls up their forehead or down their cheek. It wasn't to cover their identity but rather to keep a running theme.

Marinette held the apron fondly. She remembered every stitch she'd ever done and this piece was one of her favorites. It was reserved for when Marinette needed to help out, or when another entertainer had to step up. She rubbed her thumb over the gold stitching that slept in the hem: Marinette.

Alya, Marinette's partner in crime, sauntered up in her newest outfit that she provided for her the morning before. Although Ladybug was the most cheered for, Alya was the fan favorite. Marinette adored her, so she ensured that her best friend’s outfits were always classy at the same time it met the flashy requirement.

Her current attire was a mixtures of browns and golds. It started out as a turtle neck then transitioned down into a sleeveless crop top. The hem was riddled with tiny rhinestones that shone under the spotlight. Alya glued matching rhinestones to the mesh on her torso down to her bellybutton to give the outfit a gradated feeling. Her skirt flirted over her curves and hid everything perfectly. Even if the performance got too rough, Marinette knew Alya enough to know she was wearing athletic shorts under it.

Alya's knee high brown stiletto boots clacked with every strut towards Marinette. 'Jazz Destiny' was embroidered into the top of the boot. This type of embroidery was a mark that Marinette put on every piece she did at Lady Luck. Embroidering stage names onto the items ensured that there wouldn't be any stealing amongst the girls. Upon closer inspection, it was easy to find Marinette's signature embedded in the fabric.

“I don’t go on for another twenty.” Her voice sang in a relaxed tone as she reached for an apron off the counter. “Mind if I give you a hand?” Marinette knew it wasn’t a real question. Alya was a firm believer that the owner shouldn't put the workers out of their element. The second she said anything, the owner would respond with 'everyone pulls their weight'. Alya was in her late years of college studying to be a news reporter, so watching her ask the customers what they wanted in their drink was comical to Marinette. Top news story: Brown haired man wants Gin and Tonic. She chuckled before taking orders to the table.

Fog filled the room.

This action was always the opening for either Ladybug or the other lead, Chat Noir, to come on to the stage. The music was mischievous and upbeat and Marinette recognized it instantly. The leather clad boy vaulted through the smog with a devilish grin. He was acrobatically inclined even before he walked into Lady Luck. Chat Noir always had preferred being an acrobat rather than doing strip tease numbers. His fans were happy with whatever he was willing to give him. He swung around on his long black staff—making all the girls in the crowd swoon.

This included Marinette—but not for the reasons that the other girls were at his feet. No. Marinette loved watching her artwork move with someone's body, clung to every secret, and whispered the names of each dancer. Chat Noir's outfit was different from all the other outfits she had made. Leather from neck to toe; including boots and gloves. It accentuated all the finer details of the male body and only left the most private parts of his anatomy to the imagination. Marinette hasn't see him without his mask before but god has she seen everything else. Up close and personal, she knew that he had a very firm set of abs and that there wasn't a muscle that wasn't toned to his acrobatic tendencies.

Chat Noir was notorious for ripping his outfits during a performance. The owner always chalked it up to bad luck. Most of the time, it was nothing serious. His bell was the most common and sometimes a seam would pop out. Every Chat Noir before him was just the same. It was only until recently that the owner sought out a seamstress to keep on hand. Plagg was a little insensitive when it came to his employees but he was always reined in by his co-conspirator, Tikki. These two were always at it but when it came down to it, they made the best team. No one knew for sure what they were to each other. They kept their lives under wraps.

It was Tikki who came to Marinette and asked if she wanted to be a part of something special. Now, she didn't know it at the time but it was definitely was a mission that beat all missions. She didn't remember ever telling people that sewing was one of her strong points. Marinette worked in her family's bakery for as long as she could remember in exchange for the free room and board.

Tikki showed up to buy a cake that day. Mom and Pops were out of the shop getting more flour from the store and she just stood there in the lobby. Her eyes were shrouded in mystery but her smile was as kind as kind could be. She let off a warm feeling wherever she stepped. She kept touching things in the bakery; windows to the pastries, gift bags for loved ones, til she landed on the cake design book. She flipped to a random page and ordered it without asking questions or knowing the price. The cake was very simplistic and all she wanted was “Welcome Home Ladybug” in calligraphy accompanied by a simplistic ladybug drawing.

She insisted on waiting until the cake was done. She sat all prim and proper in the lobby while not speaking a word. She fingered the items around her; picking out items in her mind. When Marinette brought the cake up to the counter, she got up like a queen. Tikki carefully selected nine extremely different bakery items and paid for the items with confidence and a bright red piece of plastic. Her purchases were bagged up and sat on the counter while she looked through her dainty circular purse. A black card with green lettering was presented to Marinette with intent that she take it.

“I know the owner.” Tikki began. “We are looking for a designer. In case you were interested.” She lifted the card a little bit to gain the attention back towards the card. Marinette jolted at the motion and took the piece of paper.

“Plagg?” Marinette mumbled and flipped the card over. There was a number and an address under the name and nothing else. When she looked back up to question the woman, she was already across the street—waltzing away. Marinette looked down at the counter and realized in a heartbeat that the purchases were left behind. Grabbing the brown paper bag by the flaps and sliding an arm under its bulk, Marinette ran after the woman who left the shop without taking her purchases.

She lost her in the crowd easily. Using the card she was given, Marinette found herself at Lady Luck. She was familiar with the building enough to know it was a local burlesque joint but never went inside to see its wonders. The siding was all deep red brick with a flat roof that seconded as a private party area. When her foot stepped in the door frame, the world clicked into motion as the clocks ticked loudly—counting down to the unknown. The rest, to her, was history.

The day flew by fast and Marinette found herself counting the tips she had made before shoving them into her pocket. It wasn’t a lot but it was definitely enough to be worth it. Alya didn’t even bother to count her share before she went on stage. Compared to what the dancers make, it was petty change. It was about time for the seamstress to leave but since she was preoccupied with bar duties all evening, she forgot to check on her masterpieces.

**_Knock knock knock._ **

Marinette rapped on the door softly before entering the problematic dancer’s changing room. It was small and simple but private—which is more than what the other dancers were offered. There was a makeup table and a pedestal for when he needed his mending. He always needed mending. The blond’s head shot up from staring at his phone that laid in his palm. Chat Noir was still in costume and was patiently waiting for the professional to show up. Every day like clockwork he would wait in his room till he got mended then would wait till she had gone home before going home himself. Marinette figured it was due to the fact that he ripped his costume so many times he was afraid that she would get sick and not be able to fix it in time for his next gig.

Chat Noir smirked and stretched in a way that reminded of Marinette of a cat waking up and doing that one long reach. The rip he had managed this time around was a simple two second repair. The bell hanging from his neck was laying on his makeup table. Chat Noir picked it up, spun it on his fingers, and then handed it to the young seamstress.

“You could have fixed this one.” Marinette laughed through the pins suspended in her lips. Threading the needle was as easy as breathing for her. Black cord thread had to be used for the heavy metal. At this point, Marinette had jump rings hidden in the seams for easy application.

“Then I wouldn’t have been able to see you, Princess.” Chat’s words slid through the air like butter. Marinette was fairly close to him since she was sewing it while it was on him. His breath tickled her forehead but overall didn’t bother her. She tightened the thread which yanked chat’s neck a little bit. With the yank, Chat Noir let out a heartfelt chuckle. “Alright next time—I’ll fix it.”

“Next time…don’t break it.” Marinette corrected him instantly. She wasn’t flustered with his words, but on some days she didn’t like being called Princess. Today was one of those days. She lingered around his neck to make sure all the other stitching was responding well to his movements. She muttered to herself about slight adjustments for when she had time and poked at the serged edging to make sure those were still in tact.

Her visits lasted from 5 minutes to 20 minutes on a daily basis for the small repairs, no matter which room she went to. Some days it’s a complete restoration of Chat’s entire outfit. On those days he’d sit in a pair of jeans and watch magic happen. The mask never left his face in front of the ladies. If mending was needed on it he would dramatically turn around before handing it to her.

“I’m just going to go ahead and break the silence and say it's okay if you want to kiss me.” Chat fantasized when Marinette moved to the mask to make sure the old relic was still in condition to be on the dance floor. Chat moved forward but was met with two fingers on his lips. Marinette did her final check on the mask then started to leave the room.

Without knocking, the door swung open before Marinette reached it. A fairly tall man with short black hair and a very important clipboard stood in the door frame. His bright green eyes were just as shocking as Tikki’s. “Marinette, I need to you go to the common room and fix up Nino’s overalls.” This stunned Marinette, for Nino was very careful with his outfits.

“Tell Nino he has to do his own alterations.” Chat Noir grumbled. His gaze found Marinette looking back at him with a puzzled look. He redirected his eyes to Plagg. “He’s not even on tonight.”

“That’s true but we aren’t letting you hog the only seamstress willing to put up with this many people for what little she gets.” Plagg sighed and motioned to Chat with his clipboard and uttered words that Marinette wouldn’t dare repeat. “Besides, Chloe is looking for you anyways. Please don’t blow her off again?” His voice held a hint of a demotion if Chat Noir refused, and the possibility of a promotion if he obliged to meet the girl. Overall, Plagg just sounded tired at the ripe time of six pm.

She never really stayed into the late night hours. Her shift was during the dead hours when the dancers had time away from the stage. She rarely saw any of them dance and when she did it was because she was serving drinks. Staying past nine was very rare and discouraged since her home is in walking distance away. Most of the dancers start straggling in when she’s leaving. The problematic costumes usually hang around for the seamstress off the clock. Chat offered to work during the quiet hours as to guarantee a steady flow. Lady Luck was never empty when he was on stage.

Marinette smiled and left the two to their squabbling. Nino was waiting in the common room in his black jean overalls with no shirt underneath. He tapped on his computer with lightning speed and didn’t even hesitate in his typography when he looked up to greet his coworker. Nino had a different style to dancing. He alluded more to the fact that they MIGHT get to see some action then fade away in the music.

Marinette’s eyes scanned her patient with 100% precision. Nino just shook his head. “I fibbed to the guy.” He slid his headphones to around his shoulders while giving Marinette the most apologetic grin he could muster. “Jus’ wanted to see if you liked your page.”

Nino turned his computer around to show Lady Luck’s website. People would book certain tables in advance when their favorite cat was prancing around. The designer page was elegant and had fine calligraphy about their small, precious seamstress. The picture that accompanied the summary was her really close to the abs of the aforementioned cat. Marinette remembered this mend in particular due to the minute stitching failure that took a good 20 minutes of hand sewing to fix. A good picture by all standards but Chloe’s.

Chloe was, as usual, ranting and raving about how long Marinette took in Chat Noir's room before the show, as she did every time Marinette paid a visit to the male headliner's dressing room. She would stomp back and forth flailing her arms about how perverted Marinette was for meeting him in his private room. Why did Chat Noir get the help sent to his room when Chloe had to wait in the common room? That is what it always boiled down to--she was the main event after all.

A small girl dressed in casual clothes tapped Chloe on the shoulder and whispered something inaudible in her ear. This was also part of the routine. If Chloe wasn’t stopped during her rampage, she would forget that her turn was next. This girl was some sort of miracle to be able to handle Chloe the way she does. Marinette knew her name very well because Chloe would shout at her all the time. Sabrina just stood there and took it day after day. No one was sure what Sabrina did around Lady Luck other than remind Chloe that she needs to go dance. Tikki always welcomed her presence and that’s all that really mattered to anyone.

When Chloe dismissed herself, Marinette thanked Nino for the wonderful page and moved on to the lesser known dancers. She enjoyed her time with her small repair kit—going from person to person listening to them talk to everyone but her. Ideas flowed around her in the moments that she inadvertently learns about the dancers. There were a couple of dancers not contracted by Lady Luck who also get their alterations done by Marinette and sometimes she walks away with some decent money. If she didn’t, Tikki would slide her compensation.

Plagg wasn’t able to find anyone to replace the girls who had walked out so Marinette stayed for the late shift as well. It was hard not to get distracted by the flashy lights and intricate dances. Some dances were more lewd than others. Tikki was very adamant that nudity would not be allowed before 1 am. She didn’t like it in the first place but the more people who came the more money went to fund the side of Burlesque that she enjoyed: the theatrical side. Anyone who revealed themselves to the crowd was not contracted by Lady Luck.

Performers that didn't hold a contract wore a very distinctive mask during their skit. This was picked up from the crowd fairly quickly and if nudity wasn’t their thing, they would go to the restroom or refill their drink. The mask was intricate black lace with stray jewels around the eyes. Feathers came from one side signifying the amount of nudity. Two feathers said “Hey, You are going to catch a glance of a boob.” The more the feathers, the more involvement.

Tikki went on before every entrance and would introduce the next act in the most comical way possible. She wasn’t really funny but everyone would laugh regardless due to the fact that she always looked so happy and proud of herself. Her attitude was light enough to bring laughter on its own. She just made people happy.

_Screwdriver, Bloody Mary, jager bomb, Beer, Beer, Beer_

The clocked sang the 2:30 am call time. Customers and contractors alike filed out the door. There were never any complaints when the bar closed down. That night wasn’t any different from the others. Strange guys lingered and watched the girls leave.Plagg had to chase them away, even after they reached a point where they waited across the street for the girls to leave.

“I think you should have someone walk to you home.” Whispered the small owner to Marinette. Marinette looked over to her Tikki and reassured walking home by herself is what she preferred. Tikki’s bright red pixie cut hair framed herself perfectly to give her the most innocent look when she gazed at her girls with her ocean blue eyes. This look always got her what she wanted. Like it was said before, that night wasn’t any different from the others.

Plagg yelled across the empty lobby for Nino to escort ‘Miss Marinette’ home. Nino obliged but almost got run over by Chat Noir the instant the topic of escorting arose. Chat had changed into dark blue skinny jeans and a skin tight black turtleneck. It was noted that it was no more concealing than his leather suit. Plagg wasn’t surprised from the sudden act but reassured them it didn’t matter who it was. Nino gave up the duty to Chat promptly.

“My Lady” With a bow, Chat lifted Marinette’s hand and brushed his lips on her knuckles. The jealousy that radiated from the remaining girls in the room made the air around Marinette thick. Marinette reclaimed her hand and gripped her purse strap. Chat blinked behind his thick black mask. As per the rules, he wasn’t allowed to take it off til he hit the door unless it was being repaired.

“Sorry,” Marinette smiled politely as she started to step away, “I don’t date outside my species.” Chat beamed at her response and trotted after her, his blond locks bouncing in the wind that trailed behind him.

“I would like you to know that I am a purr-fect gentleman.”


	2. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret behind Chat Noir's daily visits from Marinette.

Marinette twisted the doorknob of the bakery.The smells of sweet yeast breads rising and the leftover smells from the day prior assaulted her senses as she entered the bakery. It was still a few hours til the store front opened and about an hour before her parents rose with the bread to start baking. Chat Noir waited patiently on the sidewalk as she disappeared into the dark void of the doorframe.

Marinette looked behind to her at the tall blond whose eyes never left her. She smiled a goodbye to him through the window. It was only when the door had closed, did the blond leave. She slunk up what seemed like a million stairs to get to her bed. That night had been long and drawn out with her usual shift and the extra work as a waitress. Her knee hit the edge of the mattress before she heard the indescribably loud doorbell.

“Shit.” Marinette cursed under her breath as she flew down the stairs. She knew that the cat was silly and forgetful but she didn't think he was stupid enough to ring the doorbell at 3 am in the morning. She fell onto the door with a loud thump which would wake her parents if the doorbell hadn't already. Marinette heaved herself off the door and brought the knob with her. “Chat, I can't believe you--”

_ He probably forgot to tell me something.  _ She smiled to herself. That cat of hers was forgetful indeed.

It wasn't Chat Noir.

But it was indeed a blonde.

Chloe stood tilted on one leg—staring at Marinette.The smacking of bubble gum was louder than a jet flying over the house on a silent night.  _ That bubble is probably bigger than her brain. _ Marinette hissed mentally. Chloe was wearing a spaghetti strapped red and black polka dot tank top accompanied by the tightest and shortest black skirt in existence. She was checking out her nails on the hand Marinette presumed pressed the doorbell, like maybe the button broke her fragile nail.

“Chloe” Marinette tried to say through her grinding teeth. “What's up. Is something wrong with your costume?” Marinette didn't dare think of what would happen if Tikki or Plagg found out she was rude to their 'star' performer. She loved her job at Lady Luck and couldn't imagine being fired for yelling at Ladybug for coming to her house after work.

Chloe looked up from her hand and smirked; knowing she caused an inconvenience. “Oh, no, not that.” Her words taunted Marinette with the tone of ‘oh hunny,you don’t know?’, Marinette found it harder to not slam the door in her face. Her phone shone in the darkness and her primed nails swiped along the screen. “I came over to show you this. Thought it would be of interest.”

The picture that Chloe showed off was of the black clad hero of the bar. Chat Noir was sitting at his makeup table with one of the seam rippers that had been declared missing the month before pinched between two fingers. She slid the screen across a couple more times to show picture after picture of Chat purposely breaking his costume. On this occasion, it was his zipper. Marinette clearly remembered that day, walking in and having him strip to mend the whole thing. One hole in a zipper causes the whole zipper to malfunction and the easiest way(only way) to fix it was to replace it completely.

She sat for 2 hours that day putting in a new zipper. Replacing a zipper takes maybe an hour tops but the seamstress was interrupted multiple times by incoming co-workers and Chat being highly invasive. She had a great time that day. Now that these pictures brought the scene to a clear light, she was burning with white hot rage.

“Chat Noir stages his clothing malfunctions so you visit him. Sad isn't it?” Chloe popped her gum in the loudest fashion possible. Marinette closed the door slowly—hesitating before clicking it shut. A muffled voice in the distance called out but Marinette didn't hear it. All she could think about was the smug smirk on Chloe's face and that all of her times she needed to rescue the hero were lies.

She turned around to see her concerned parents arm in arm giving her a loving gaze. If there wasn't going to be any sleep...why not help them out.

* * *

Marinette was dead on her feet the next day at the bar. She got there as soon as they opened—as to not run into Chloe or Chat Noir. Chat Noir wasn't scheduled til dinner and Chloe came in as she pleased. Since she was up late last night to follow Marinette home, it was presumed by the young worker that she wouldn't be in til late evening if at all.

A warm smile, which could only have resonated from the tiny queen, wafted through the air and hit Marinette hard in the face. She wasn't up to much talk this morning and Tikki was sending all the love she had to get Marinette to return with a smile. Tikki stood behind the counter counting money silently in her head as she opened the register. There was grace in everything she did and her movements were smoother than melted butter. Why did a queen wish to work in such a dark place only lit by stage lights?

Her makeup was plain and simple which meant Tikki didn't plan to stay very long. She was wearing a dress Marinette had made her for one of her first acts as a comedian. Since Tikki had evolved from that time, she just wore it on normal days. It was a modern red qipao that stopped right above her knees. The black swirling design brought out every bit of regal she had deep in her bones—not that it was hard to find. Her legs were hugged by black nylon stockings and matching red and black heels.

Tikki didn't say anything as she glided her thumbs over the singles but her smile made everything a little bit better. Marinette sat at the bar with her chin on the counter. Dancers never came in before dinner but if there was an audience, Tikki would go on stage and do a little stand up until they left. There were days when, sure, an act of two would spring out of nowhere for a little extra cash.

“It bothers me, Tikki.” Marinette mumbled into the wood of the bar. Her fingers swirled with the pattern of the finish until it hit a small glass. Eyes tracing it to the rim, Tikki was pouring orange juice into the clear liquid. She screwed the top back together and placed the orange juice in the fridge. The glass was slid closer to her hand with a smile. Taking the drink, Marinette continued, “I always work hard on the costumes and he just goes and rips them!”

“That's not unusual, Marinette.” Tikki tried not to use her name unless it was personal. Beloved, honey, sweetheart, and many other nicknames were used but rarely her name. “Chat Noir is careless. He rips his costume every day.”

Marinette was about to argue about how she knew it was about Chat Noir but quickly closed her mouth. Tikki knew a lot but it didn't take a lot to figure out that there was only two 'he's in the building who get repairs done. One in particular that Marinette sees on a daily. “No, Tikki.” Marinette whined back. “He rips them on  _ purpose _ !”

She took a swig of the drink, which she found out was a screwdriver. It made her feel a little bit better, but she continued on. “I know it doesn't matter what happened, I still have to mend them, but why doesn't he just—I don't know...not?” Marinette knew there were no repairs to be done at the moment, since she was caught up, so sitting at the bar didn't bother Tikki in the slightest.

Tikki didn't protest. Her head tilted towards the door, where a few customers were stumbling in a hungover state. “Knock knock,” Tikki greeted. Marinette sat back up and looked at the small girl. She loved her knock knock jokes.

“Who's there?” Responded one of the customers who looked like he was hit by a truck.

“I'm T”

“I'm T who?”

“You're two? By no means are you allowed in this bar!” Tikki gasped in feigned surprise. “Where are your mothers?” The men chuckled as they ordered a few beers and sat at a table by themselves.

“You're terrible at those.” Marinette teased. The red head snapped her a pout then stormed off with her customer's orders. She would tell Marinette all the time about how the previous Chat Noir would do standup comedy for the club and how the place was always so bright when he was around. Everyone knew Tikki and Plagg missed the old stars but everyone moves on. There were pictures of old heroes on the wall behind the liquor.

She was right. The old Chat Noir was standing at the mic with a big grin on his face with the old Ladybug rolling her eyes at whatever he said. She apparently was also a comedian and would retort in an impromptu manner. All the previous stars acted together. It bothered the staff at Lady Luck that no one lived up to the old standards of the bar.

There was also a picture of Tikki and Plagg wearing the masks of Ladybug and Chat Noir respectively in an act of comedic relief of the two. The picture was a relic compared to the rest--one from when they first opened. It’s funny how sometimes age lets people grow older so gracefully. They didn’t look a day older than they did when it first opened. It's only to be expected of the queen of the bar. Plagg was a mystery but if you're constantly around someone so bright like her, you’d learn to shine yourself.

Marinette abandoned the rest of her drink and sauntered backstage.

 

“Marinette!” a familiar voice called out to her that sent shivers down her spine. She turned on her heel and stomped off before the blond could catch up to her.

 

This happened repeatedly before the voice stopped calling to her. Marinette didn’t really have anything to do on the account that Problem Number 1 was getting the cold shoulder. Her apron was laced up on her in no time when Plagg was informed that there was no one to cover again for tonight. She tilted her half mask on her face and smiled. Time to take orders.

* * *

 

The stage flourished with smoke. Marinette couldn’t help herself but to sneak a peek at the performance. Up on top of Chat’s staff was the boy wonder perched perfectly. Accompanying him on stage was the blonde that visited her the night before. Her hand was gripped and she was leaning away, causing the staff to tip. Chat quickly leaned to the other side to balance them out.

 

The whole time the green eyes were on Marinette. She couldn’t help but feel guilty. He didn’t know why she was avoiding him, only that she was. When the music started, Chloe walked around the pole and tried to look appealing. Her hair was down today and sticking to her makeup caked face. When Chloe stopped her little charade, she gave a signal to Chat.

 

What he did would leave any girl at the loss of words. Chloe pretended to hold the bottom of the staff but everyone knew Chat Noir didn’t need help. He spun around with ease that resembled break dancing. Marinette didn’t remember her mouth dropping at the sight but another waitress shoved it back up.

 

With one wrong turn, the leather clad boy was caught. The screaming would not end when the crowd saw bare skin from his belly button to his hip. His belt fell limp after being ripped from its place. Chloe, with some kind of miracle, rolled with it. She picked up his limp belt and playfully dragged him off the stage.

 

With the end of the act came a wink to the crowd from the leather clad figure. Girls squealed as they prematurely exited the stage and tikki introduced the next act. It was her very own best friend. Alya proclaimed loudly that this act was dedicated to the cute waitress standing by the bar. Everyone turned around and looked at Marinette up and down. She was the only one next to the bar.

 

Marinette gave a shy wave to dismiss the looks. Alya did this on occasion when Marinette was feeling down, but the frequency of it didn’t make it any better. She swallowed her pride and made her way backstage.

 

Just because she saw it happen doesn’t mean it wasn’t on purpose. She was going to give that boy a piece of her mind.

 


	3. Unaltered Feelings

He flexed, flexed, and oh hey flexed again. Marinette was trying to listen to Chat Noir's story on how he ripped his suit this time. Some feat at the top of his pole had caught his belt and snapped it off his waist. When it ripped at the seams, the crowd got a glimpse of Chat's lower abdomen. The crowd hadn't calmed down since. But here Marinette was with the bar's “hero” in the uniform she has mended time and time again with a gaping hole trailing from his bellybutton to his hip. She saw it for herself but couldn't convince herself it wasn’t on purpose.

 

Marinette was never impressed with people who ripped her handiwork. Flexing was not going to change this undeniable act. Chat propped one leg up onto his makeup chair and leaned in Marinette's direction. She knew in her bones that this was supposed to be some kind of sexual stance but her eyes kept trailing back to the broken seam.

 

“Keep this up Chat and I'm never helping you again.” Marinette's voice was a little low and was definitely angry. Chat Noir straightened up quickly and sat promptly down into his chair. His eyes were wide and pinned on the fuming seamstress. “No, You need to be standing.” She pulled out her needle and stomped over to the boy. As fast as he sat, he was up again.

 

Marinette lost herself in thought as she closed up the hole. Chat tried to steal a few glances on occasion but his chin was immediately pushed up with a harsh scolding. Looking down changes everything and if someone thinks they can move and not be caught by a seamstress, they were wrong as hell.

 

Chat knew this. Chat Noir was told on a daily not to move. He couldn't help himself though. The first time he met the seamstress crossed his mind and he smiled. Looking straight ahead, he let the seamstress work. This time was an accident after all. His thoughts wandered with thoughts of their first encounter.

 

“Do you ever get tired of sewing?” Chat's voice was quiet and careful. He didn't move. Didn't dare to. Marinette's hands stopped and she looked up with pins in her mouth; a sign she had given many times that welcomed movement (but not a lot!) and for him to steal glances. He took the opportunity to lower his chin and look at her.

 

“Only when I enter this room.” Marinette grumbled through her pins. She went back to her busywork, trying to recreate the weft of the fabric. This was tedious and Marinette knew she would be here for quite a minute. She silently wished that they could casually talk on different terms. That maybe one day they could just enjoy a soda and talk.

 

“Ever thought of wearing one of the costumes yourself?” He continued even though Marinette didn't give him the go ahead to move. She adapted and jabbed him with her steel protected thumb. Chat Noir straightened up. _It's a far away dream._

 

“I do wear a costume.” Marinette resigned herself and let go of the huff she was holding against him. She meant to hold the grudge longer but Chat had a way to calm her down. Knowing that he was ripping the costumes on purpose to see her had aggravated her. She wanted to punch him. She couldn't bring herself to stop from going through the door. _Maybe he'll apologize._ Marinette wished when she had turned the knob.

 

But he stood there just as he usually does. A purr in his voice as he welcomed her to his sanctuary. That's when Marinette realized he probably didn't know that she knew. Why would anyone tell him? “Your apron and mask don't count” She heard him whisper. Maybe he did know. He was definitely walking on eggshells. _Does he really think I'll stop coming by?_ Marinette gripped her free hand open and closed a couple times. _Is that why he's being polite?_

 

Marinette sat in silence. She stopped trying to repair the uniform and just stitched it close with a running stitch. It wasn't as bad as she originally thought. She was able to cover up the horrendous job with the actual belt. She just couldn't stand listening to this babble anymore. She was mad. _Let me be_ _**mad.**_

 

“Ever wanted to dance?” He couldn't drop it. She stood and proceeded towards the door. With her movements, Chat interpreted a 'no' although it was never said. Marinette was always happy with just mending and watching everyone else be happy doing what they could to pay their bills. She was even content with helping the actual strippers because she knew they did it for a reason—if they liked it or not.“What about a dance with me?”

 

“Never” Her response was immediate. With her words, she swung open the door. A woman of five foot three inches stood in the frame. Her bright red pixie cut hair standing out against the bright white walls of the back rooms. Her eyes burning into Marinette while her smile alluded to a new plot.

 

“You know it might not be a bad idea.” Tikki steps in, grabs Marinette by the wrist, and herds her back over to Chat. Marinette was held captive by the co-owner. “I've been thinking about adding a comedy routine with the barkeeps.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah. You said you'd stay away from my mixers.” Plagg followed through the door with panic smeared all over his face. He had just gotten here when the incident transpired and was attempting crowd control. Tikki had always wanted the whole bar to do a skit together but Plagg turned it down instantly every time.

 

“You said you'd stay away from my dancers.” Tikki retorted like she had practiced earlier in the morning anticipating this argument. Her left over hand on her hip, she brimmed with excitement and fighting spirit.

 

“No I'm against this.” Plagg stubbornly huffed. Tonight, his outfit was mirroring Chat Noir's theme in a way. He had ears and a long belt. Marinette watched the two bicker between themselves, with a hand holding Marinette's arm, she had no way to flee. It took everyone in the room by surprise when the small owner got on her tip toes and pecked her partner's cheek.

 

Plagg was bright red and seemed to float. He crossed his arms and grumbled as he left the room, “just coordinate it around their schedules...or find their replacements.” Tikki molded him like clay. She turned to Marinette and winked.

 

“Give a rambling boy a kiss and he'll be putty in your hands.” Her words sung through the air as though they were the wisest words of advise ever given in the bar.

 

“I'm sorry Tikki but I'd rather just help with costumes.” Marinette's voice was soft. She didn't want to make Tikki upset with her but she didn't want to go on stage. At least not with so many other talented people.

 

“A shame. But I understand.”

* * *

 

Chat Noir swayed through the crowd with two drinks in his hands. He didn't touch a single person in the tight knit audience and didn't spill a single drop. _Put that on your resume._ Marinette giggled to herself. Maybe she was more of a comedian than she thought. _Alright, maybe it wasn't that funny_. Marinette took the drink offered to her from the leather clad boy. It was dark and the smell of syrup filled her nose as carbonation popped on her skin. Seemed to be non-alcoholic.

 

Marinette's eyes wandered over to her company. Of all the times Chat Noir wished Marinette would look at him, he was admiring the stage and didn't notice. She sipped her cola in silence, wondering if he was thinking of an apology to her. A hum fell over the lobby when fog filled the room but both stars were accounted for in the audience.

 

Marinette tried asking what was happening but was drowned out in the shouting when Tikki showed up in the middle of the stage. By her side were two co-workers she recognized in a heartbeat. All three were wearing matching white peacock outfits with pearls cascading over every inch of their body. These outfits were far from the ones she had designed for the bartenders' comedy act.

 

On the left side was Alix, a young server trainee. Her hair was that of the early sunrise haphazardly thrown into one low ponytail on her right side and left loose on the other. Alix's way of serving was unique amongst the rest where she would skate the drinks around. Her skates never left her feet. On the other was a seasoned bartender that went by the name of Volpina. Her hair was out of pattern of those on stage. While Tikki and Alix had hair like the sky, Volpina had the calming color of autumn. Her hair was ceremoniously bundled up on either side with the remainder gathered into a rather large ponytail. She had been a staple to the bar for as long as Marinette could remember. She was very talented when mixing. Bottles would fly everywhere as she flirted with any and everybody. How she was still single was a mystery.

 

Despite their differences, they all fit up on the stage together. They had matching black masks that were reserved for the waitstaff. Their number was mesmerizing and with each sway of their hips, Marinette found herself wishing she had taken the leap to be up with them. A couple other bartenders had opted out and one called in sick, but the women on stage performed like they weren't missing a soul.

 

Marinette let out a gasp of delight when the group fell into a split simultaneously. The high was short lived when a hand laid on her shoulder. Assuming it was Chat, Marinette tried batting it away. The hand soon returned to her lower back and Marinette could feel steam through her ears. _He just can't take a hint._

 

“ _Chat,_ Now isn't the t--”Marinette turned to her company who was still in his seat with his eyes on a much burlier man standing behind her. Standing, Chat Noir stormed over to the man with his chest puffed out. “I'm not interested.” Marinette told the man, who didn't move his hand.

 

“Don't worry Princess,” Chat Noir smirked as he cracked his gloved knuckles. The fire behind his mask told many stories about how this man was about to lose his hand. Marinette jumped to her feet—her face red with anger. Chat's arm was revved back and had a grip on the perp's collar. The pervert had his hands up as if it was all a misunderstanding. This only made the duo angrier.

 

Before Chat could land a punch a sizzling sound rang through the crowd. In Marinette's hand was a small pink vial. Chat let go and the man grasped at his eyes with a howl.

 

It only took two milliseconds for both owners to be on either side of the duo assessing the situation. Plagg was on Chat's side; holding the acrobat back from showing how many ways an arm could bend. Tikki was gently touching Marinette's arm in a silent, yet comforting, presence. Marinette's anger turned to Chat, who was still fuming beside her.

 

“You're not my bodyguard.” Her voice was stern enough that if the cat ears on Chat's head were real, they'd be folded back against his hair. His full attention redirected to her. “I could have gotten taken care of that myself”

 

“But Princess...” The boy protested. Plagg let go of him and walked over to Tikki. Marinette was now top priority. The man on the ground had scrambled away to safety but the battlefield had not tasted enough blood as of yet.

 

“Stop calling me your Princess!” _Princess, Princess, Princess._ Marinette couldn't stop hearing it in her head. She wasn't a princess. No matter how much it made her stomach flip. If she couldn't make sense of what it was—it wasn't welcome. And somersaulting butterflies at a nickname was definitely uncharted territory.

 

“Marinette...” Tikki's voice was almost nonexistant. Her hand hadn't moved.

 

“And stop ripping your outfits on purpose.” Marinette blurted the thought she held on to all day. The three others fell silent. Tikki's hand slacked. Plagg looked away. Chat's eyes couldn't move from Marinette's but they longed for escape. “You all knew. Well—I'm not going to help you anymore.”

 

“Mari—I...” Chat Noir reached out a gloved hand in efforts to stop the raging girl. What she said was drowned out by the crowd of the bar. She grabbed her purse and her jacket and slipped out of Tikki's grasp. Dodging Chat's reach, Marinette escaped.

 

In the weeks that followed, Chat Noir didn't return to Lady Luck.

 


	4. You Lost Your Mind in the Sound

Marinette was groaning into her glass again. The night prior had been rough. Chloe couldn't understand why Chat Noir would stay away because of a little fight. How could anyone possibly care that the seamstress was upset. The seamstress was only the help. Chloe repeated over and over the terrible term to the seamstress until it echoed throughout the lobby.

 

“Chloe, that’s enough.” Tikki warned. She was already having trouble as it was to reassure Plagg that Chat would return. He pretended not to care but in slight moments of Chloe’s rant he would get soft and scrub just a little harder on the clean counter tops. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

 

Chloe propped her hands on her hips and continued the battle. In her eyes, the battlefield of Marinette vs Chloe had not seen enough blood shed. Even Sabrina couldn’t reel Chloe in from doing what she did next. She sauntered over to Marinette, gripped tight onto one of her ponytails, and yanked as hard as she could to lower Marinette into a bow.

 

“Know your place Baker’s Daughter.” The room was livid. “You should stand no taller than this.” People were shouting and Sabrina tried doing damage control with Chloe but was immediately dismissed when Tikki wanted to take a swing at punishment. Marinette couldn’t recall what ensued. The pain in her head throbbed until tears pushed over the brims of her blue eyes. Her teeth grit together in anger at Chloe but the real pain came from Chloe’s accusations that maybe weren’t as farfetched as everyone was led to believe. Maybe it _was_ her fault Chat didn’t want to come back.

 

“Go. Home!” Was the last thing Marinette heard before the complete silence. At her feet laid Ladybug’s mask from when Chloe threw it at her during the beginning of the fight. It had a few drops of tears on the top but most had slid to their escape down the cheeks of the mask itself. Alya was by Marinette’s side in a heartbeat to wipe away the stray tears and to coo bitchy insults about her attacker.

 

“Shhh, the slut doesn’t know a damned thing.” She would say soothingly.

* * *

 

Tikki could now be found sitting on the stage with her head in her hands. She had been sitting there since Chloe stomped out. Still as a picture no matter how many people tried to cheer her up. In less than 24 hours, she had lost both of her lead roles. It had to be hard on her.

 

Plagg found busywork in constantly wiping the counter tops and to make snarky remarks at the waitresses trying to serve drinks to their customers. The waitresses didn’t blame him and would occasionally remind him that Chat would return. Following the reminder would be more sass but everyone took it as it was; a thank you.

 

Marinette gasped as an idea bloomed in the depths of her mind. Her feet glided to a descending staircase. She was sure she could convince someone to be the stand in for the main role—she’d do whatever it took to make Tikki smile again. Although Lady Luck had two stars, no one could really stand in for the present Chat Noir. Ladybug, on the other hand, could easily be replaced. Anyone could honestly do better than the prior—even someone with no stage presence! If she was able to find the right costume, she was positive she could get Alya or Volpina to stand in.

 

The stairs creaked as Marinette disappeared into the basement. Tikki had mentioned they kept past pieces in ‘the-cold-depths-of-Ms.-Luck’ when Marinette first started. Ever since, she was certain she was the only one who ever went down there.

 

Marinette had stashed a few things between her hidden walls on a daily. A sketchbook was thrown but not forgotten amongst a rack of fully sequined dresses. Pens were scattered in more places than one. Swatches of fabric were pinned to randomly selected uniforms and boots. One rack she almost never looked at, covered in dust but still shining in the corner; the Ladybug rack. The red was almost blinding.

 

Marinette rarely looked at this rack because Chloe only wore one outfit regardless of her skit. She didn't care for costume changes and she had someone else design her main outfit anyways. Marinette would never have that many cut outs in a spandex suit. It's just uncomfortable. Chloe preached about how stylish and innovative it was but she wasn't fooling anyone.

 

Her eyes scanned the sea of red, waiting for something to catch her eye. A glimpse of one in particular set the bar really high. It had to be that one. There was no way to make up for a stand in other than an outstanding outfit.

 

A red sweetheart neckline was adorned with black beads down to the waist line. It was a very form fitting jumper that cut off at the knees with a peplum that hugged the natural waistline with matching beadwork. One side overlapped the other and tied in a loose bow. Under the bow was a hidden pocket. It definitely screamed figure skating if she ever saw figure skaters. Giggling, Marinette imagined an old ladybug being a diehard fan of figure skating.

 

Looking to the standup mirror, Marinette sized herself up to the outfit. She couldn't imagine who could fit in such a small thing. It'd be a shame to have to alter it since it was so beautiful, but it HAD TO BE this outfit. Volpina would have a hard time even with altering. There was Mylene, Juleka, Alix and even Rose. If she tried to convince one of the bartenders to dance, Plagg might have a conniption. That leaves Alya, Juleka, and Rose. Juleka and Rose only do group numbers. Alya is really tall.

 

_Since we're the same build..._ Marinette found herself getting undressed. Shoes discarded, she laid her white t-shirt over the rack which was quickly followed by her jean shorts. The soft material was cold to the touch from the lack of wear. When she got to her upper abdomen, the realization dawned on her that it was strapless. Marinette's powder pink balconette bra flopped to the ground and was shoved aside with a gentle push. _I could show how cute she'd be on stage._

 

The sweetheart covered her breasts perfectly with a gentle lift. The zipper on the side seam glided up with ease. It was a genuine perfect fit. Rose was a few inches shorter than her, but it was easier to subtract than it is to add material. Confident that she could change the mind of the petite blonde, she snatched her pile of discarded clothes, and hopped up the stairs two at a time.

 

The whole room darted at the approaching sound and all eyes were on Marinette. There were a couple of bystanders who had just entered the bar and wow did their eyes treat her like candy. A whistle erupted from Alya’s lips and a standing ovation from Volpina.

 

The bartender strutted over, threw an arm around Marinette’s shoulders, and planted a heavy kiss on the cheek. Compliments flew out of the girls’ mouths at ninety miles per hour which could not be slowed with simple thanks. Marinette played with her hands near her cleavage—due to the fact that Alya pointed out that Marinette was finally ‘letting the girls shine’.

 

Marinette could clearly remember the moment she became friends with Alya, but the moment she and the bartender became close knit was lost on her. She rarely saw the overzealous bartender due to scheduling but when they did cross paths, it was always a joy. The flirting was only welcomed, friendly, banter which made Chat Noir fuss for hours. If Chat was nearby, the degree of flirting would increase.  

 

Tikki, who was sitting on the edge of the stage, rose to her feet. Her face showed no expression except pure curiosity with the outfit. Her feet ghosted along the floor in slow movements but when she finally reached Marinette, the room’s air grew thick. Marinette grew a lump in her throat when the petite owner didn’t say a word as she inspected the girl in front of her.

 

After a prolonged silence, Tikki clutched her hands in glee and smiled with her huge royal blue eyes. They were portraying a memory that only Tikki knew in place of the daily mystery. This new look killed any anxiety Marinette was having at that moment.

 

“Mari,” Tikki’s voice lacked breath. Her eyes continued to dart over every piece as she talked. “Please. Will you be Ladybug tonight?”

 

“Oh, well I was hoping to talk to Rose about that, actually!” Marinette regretted breaking the news to her friend the instant the red head pouted her lips.

 

“Sick.” Tikki grumbled. In that moment, Marinette knew she was fighting a losing battle.

 

“Ju-Juleka?” Marinette prayed.

 

“Taking care of Rose.” Alya almost sung with how happy she was in this situation. Alya was always begging her to taste the stage. Preaching about how once you dance, you’ll get addicted. Tikki looked sidelong at Volpina. Volpina, brimming with permission, snatched the pile of clothes in Marinette’s possession, and held them above her head.

 

“One dance.” Tikki’s voice was stern. Once the girl set her mind on something, it was hard to alter it. When silence followed, Tikki snapped her fingers to Volpina. The clothes were bestowed onto her. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a red hankerchief. Laying it on top of the stolen goods, she swung a free hand then removed it. To no one’s surprise, Marinette’s clothes had disappeared.

 

“Why you don’t do magic tricks on stage is beyond me.” Alya chirped and nudged the proud magician. The group clapped at the stunt but left Marinette unimpressed. Tikki made an excuse of how jokes were more fun despite how bad she was at telling them.

 

“It’d be easier to give in, Marinette.” Plagg walked up in a grumpy mood. Ever since Chat Noir left he had been in more of a slump than usual. Plagg was proud of only two things: his bartenders…and Chat Noir. He was losing bartenders like it was going out of style and heaven knows how long it would be before his beloved cat would return. “She’s not going to let you have your spare clothes either.”

 

The determination was so overflowing that it sunk into everyone in the room. This did not exclude Marinette.

* * *

 

 

The dance Marinette had decided to put together was a delicate one. It matched the outfit in a refined manner. Deep down Marinette had always believed Ladybug was sassy (not bitchy), refined (not stuck up), independent (not reliant on smoke), and most importantly, benevolent. She wasn’t sure how to show the most important factor in a dance but knowing that she had a solid idea of who the heroine SHOULD be.

 

When she said Ladybug could be done by someone with zero stage presence she never imagined it would be her. She smoothed her padding under her breasts and lifted them one last time. Strapless tops always made her uneasy. Nino had promised to play stage control and if there was any sign of disaster—he’d pull the curtain.

 

She took a deep breath and tied the traditional Ladybug mask over her eyes. The song “King” from Lauren Aquilina resonated throughout the bar. The performance started with Marinette tapping her black slip on jazz shoes on the stage. When the first verse begun, her feet began to move.

 

**_“You’re alone, you’re on your own, so what?”_** Marinette did a combination of locking in various positions like a stop motion movie while not making eye contact with the audience. She had practiced all morning but the idea of looking out past the lights to see eyes on her drove her crazy. Nervousness was not allowed on the stage. Tikki made sure she was aware of that.

 

Marinette tried to block out everything around her to focus on the music. She utilized the pole in center stage. She watched Chat Noir casually whip around on it so she took the chance to try to give the stage a ballet twist. Chat Noir was known for his unique style that incorporated street dancing of all kinds. Marinette wanted the ongoers of Lady Luck to know that Ladybug was grace; partner to Chat Noir’s seductive moves—not an accessory.

 

With the music picking up into the final chorus, Marinette gripped the pole tightly. In one of Chat’s rants about how great he was, Marinette heard a piece of secret advice that she held close. _If you want to be great…_ She leaned with the words in an arabesque. **_“You’ve got it all”_** with a leg extended a complete 90 degrees to the pole she pivoted her grounded foot into a jump onto the beam she had gripped so tightly. Her outreached leg slowly waved til it made a 180 and the girl was upside down. _You’ve got to look fear in the face. Even if you’re scared, lie._

_You’re the next super nova and nothing is going to stand in your way._

 

With renewed determination at this memory, Marinette looked at the crowd. She didn’t know how it looked to the audience but the reaction it got was loud. **_“You can reclaim your crown”_** At this moment, the crowd broke through her barrier against the sound with whistles and cheering. It shocked Marinette for a split second but she had regained her confidence as she climbed the pole with gentle sways. With each sway she turned a fraction til she was completely upright.

 

She winked and with the words **_“You’re in control”_** she used her ankles to hold onto the beam so that she could slowly arch backwards and with her now free hands to run her fingers through her hair. What she thought was loud only got louder. The audience size had multiplied to three times the amount. The bartenders were scrambling to get drinks and people were shoved in tight like pack rats.

 

Marinette almost lost her grip when she game in direct contact with emerald green eyes. Standing in the crowd was a boy her age with blond hair smoothed over to one side and a gentle smile to kill the masses. She couldn’t grasp the look he was giving her but it was a complete 180 of the other looks in the crowd. While the strange men wanted to devour her with their eyes and the bizarre women were imagining of the ways she fits in their fantasies, he just looked to her.

 

The blond resembled a particular cat she knew which was why she almost fell from her place on the pole. The second she realized she was wrong, she gave him a smile personally made for the sweetheart who came to a burlesque joint with pure looks and smiles. The lights grew soft on Marinette to remind her the closing was approaching fast.

 

**_“Put all your faults to bed”_** As slow as possible, Marinette lowered herself down from the pole into a split in the center stage. Her hands were shaking from all the strain she had put on them and she was grateful they lasted this far. Marinette hugged her leg that was in front of her and buried her face in her knee. **_“You can be king again.”_** With the last line of the song the lights dimmed to black. The curtains dropped and not even a moment later Marinette scrambled to her feet to retreat from the stage.

 

Her feet padded quietly backstage to the common room. Marinette didn’t stop by her clothes neatly folded on a makeup table. She let her feet take her where ever they planned on taking her. She slid through a door into an empty dressing room. There was a smile on her face radiated more light than a thousand suns.

 

“Chat! Did you see—“Marinette’s smile did not disappear when she was met with silence and emptiness but it did dim to an everyday grin. The chair where Chat would pose on was uncharacteristically put away by the makeup table. The lighting in the room was off balance without Chat Noir. It was just a dressing room. A room Marinette had no reason to go to after her stellar performance. “Me…”

 

Although her lips said she was happy, her eyes whispered disappointment. Chat had told her on multiple occasions she would be good on stage. How if she went on stage that the bar wouldn’t have room to move. How the crowd would scream for another performance. He was right. She wanted him to see how right he was. She had pushed him away and it was her fault. Of course he wasn’t there to see her performance. He showed no signs of returning to Lady Luck. And right now, Tikki and Plagg aren’t the only ones missing him.

 

As Marinette walked back to the common area, she was peeling off her jazz shoes. She adored these shoes as much as any dancer could. She never liked the look of actual ballet shoes so she found something else. Her jazz shoes allowed more traction in fast dances and still allowed elegance in slow ones.

 

With her fingers shaking out tangles in her hair; she reached the makeup stand where her clothes rested. Hidden behind the folded clothing was a delicately wrapped bouquet of flowers. Marinette picked it up and fingered the card while admiring the black cellophane. It was definitely addressed to her but the presence of a name of who gave her these flowers was nowhere to be seen.

 

Before her mother, Sabine, married her father, she owned a flower shop in downtown Paris. Sabine worked there for no more years than you could count on your hand. She opened the shop shortly after moving to France so she could stay afloat. Because if Sabine knew anything—it was how to talk in the flower’s delicate language.

 

There was white narcissus being hugged by dark green ivy in the bulk accompanied by the sweet smell of the lily of the valley. The message was clear. The narcissus praised her for her work and told long tales of hidden talents. The lily of the valley prayed to be friends once more even though the moment was delicate. The ivy reassured her that the sender was dependable and was 100% committed to the message.

 

A flush crossed Marinette’s cheeks and the smile returned to its full glow schedule. She hummed the song she had just danced to and held the bouquet close to her while spinning in the room. Her feet decided the stage wasn’t enough and made the floor her show room. The bouquet was very unique and very specific. Marinette couldn’t imagine who else it could possibly have come from.

 

“My petite chaton.”


	5. Rain Came Pouring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut the chapter in half. This is really just part 1 of chapter 5 but I'm going to pretend that it's a chapter on it's own. Otherwise the word count would be more than double a normal chapter and I didn't want to throw off the flow. I hope you enjoy.

Marinette sat in Chat Noir’s chair staring at herself in the mirror. He wouldn’t mind her using his room for the time being, she knew this more than anyone. She was far from moving in like everyone was urging her to. A few pieces of makeup sat quietly on the table and her outfit hung from the door.

One day she had to give up the private room to the previous owner when he returned regardless of how much she gave him her puppy eyes. After the night of her first dance, Tikki asked her to make an appearance nightly until they could find the proper arrangements. For the time being, it was working out. Her songs were simple and all contained the same movements that mixed ballet and pole dancing. Her trusty jazz shoes had seen the light of day more times than they had in years. Every night the crowd cheered more and more as they anticipated her return.

Marinette tied her hair with long red ribbons into pigtails, something she only does for the bar. From a day to day basis, she kept it in a high bun. It was neat and out of the way for when she helped in the bakery. Pigtails made her feel younger than her driver’s license tells. The way pigtails accompanied the Ladybug mask just felt a lot more natural. The bun felt very forced. Sliding on the mask, she was able to let a sigh of content. The mask made her feel more comfortable in this red skin.

Speaking of red skin—she squared up her outfit through the mirror. She didn’t need to look behind her to know where every bead fell on her body and how short the peplum was. Thank goodness for the leggings otherwise it would have not been an option. The material was outdated and fragile so future plans on a new outfit had to happen soon.

During the past 4 nights in the uniform, Marinette felt the wefts creak like an old house on a frigid night. It no longer had the ability to breath on her skin and she could only thank the fashion gods that the material wasn’t dry rotted. She had a few ideas but she didn’t want to jump into anything just in case Chloe returned.

What if Chloe returned?

Would Marinette be disappointed? Relieved? Upset?

_Another time, I suppose_. Marinette fluffed her pigtails and smiled past her mask. Confidence beaming from her, she dropped her towel revealing her naked, yellow toned skin. It was the night of her debut that she realized that undergarments were uncomfortable under her disguise. It bothered her none. No one had to know! She had a private room (temporarily!) and so undressing wasn’t a problem.

The inexperienced dancer twirled a few feet from the mirror to see how her body was before the outfit was constricting her. Her breasts followed her for the most part; on the account that she hadn’t grown since high school. They had just enough bounce to hit each other, then land back into place when she abruptly stopped. All of the information she took in was going to be used for future references for a new outfit. If there was one.

Where she lacked in chest size, Marinette made up in curves. A slim hourglass figure but at least there was a figure. In high school she laughed if anyone said she would get any hips. Her hands slid down her silhouette and came back up and into her hair. To say she couldn’t imagine herself sliding what she’s obtained down a stripper pole would be lying. Something risqué on the speakers and Marinette teasing the crowd before slipping away. Bound by her contract, she could not please the crowd. The dancer was okay with this. That didn’t stop her from imagining.

The music before her own started chanting in the distance reminding her to put on her uniform. The relic fit like an old friend. Marinette swayed her hips as she sauntered backstage to stand in position. She stood in ballet’s fourth position while waiting for the spotlight. Left arm curved toward the sky and the other resting on her belly, she anticipated the drawing of the curtain. Right foot completely horizontal and the left meeting at the diagonal of her heel the air grew thick when the music died down.

The instrumental opening of “Clean” by Taylor Swift filled the room. The stage was illuminated with purple lighting with smoke lining the floor. This was the first time the bar used the fog machine on one of her routines. She wasn’t the real ladybug in the club so seeing the fog put a heavy feeling on her heart.

It wasn’t a peer pressure kind of feeling but more of an honor. There was pride in the steps that she fluttered on stage, in the way her arms fan, in the strength of her arms to keep her on the pole, and in the smile she gave the crowd. Through the purple lighting came a spotlight that followed her and illuminated her smile.

She was happy.

“ ** _The draught was the very worse_** ” Marinette curled her fingers around the pole and felt the music. Her heart throbbed in her throat with every movement. Everyone in the crowd cheered as usual and every person gave her an ounce more of confidence. She stomped behind the pole, back to the crowd, “ ** _It was months and months of back and forth_** ”. Marinette with outstretched arms pretended to be yanked by people on either side of the pole.

From fingertip to toe she knew every part of the stage. The uniform she wore glistened in the spotlight as it reminisced the good old times. Her jazz shoes were creating new memories. And Marinette couldn’t get enough.

There, dead center of the crowd, was the boy again. In the past four routines, he had been seen somewhere in the crowd but once she wandered the audience, to ask why such a smile could exist in a place like this, he would have already left. His green eyes fed off her movements while her blue lived off seeing him when she danced.

“ ** _Rain came pouring_** ” She had taken the dance to the top of the pole but never stopped looking at the boy. Every time she asked Volpina if she served anyone like how she described, the answer would always be no. Alya never saw even a trace of him. Nino said he would ask when her song would come up soon. Every time she’d ask Nino, he’d smile. There was definitely a chance that Nino knew more and that Marinette planned to shake out of him.

Marinette closed her eyes and took a breath to give her the confidence the others couldn’t give her. Her ankles tensed hard as every other part let go. She dangled in the air, only held by her ankles, from the pole. Her pigtails fell out of her hair ties but she showed no signs of minding. “ ** _I think I am finally clean.”_** Marinette opened her blue eyes to see a pair of sky blue meeting hers. Being upside down was a real disadvantage to Marinette but a chance for the person who had slipped on stage.

The music abruptly stopped when a smack erupted the stage. Marinette lost her focus and fell to the ground. The crowd went wild for a whole new reason. When Marinette was scheduled on stage, people would have to pay a cover charge to see her. First verse plus a chorus didn’t cover the five euro cover charge. Times that by how many people had shown up that day—no wonder people were upset.

Marinette’s body fell with a loud thump and the ache in her back happened immediately. Chloe had been yelling something but the words were covered by the boo’s coming from the other bar attendees. Chloe straddled Marinette with her knees on Marinette’s arms so that she could not stop anything Chloe decided to do. She snatched the mask off of Marinette’s face with a snarl and the old Ladybug mask ripped from the sudden aggression.

A piece in Marinette’s heart broke. That was the symbol of hope; of the benevolence of Ladybug; of the effort all the ones prior gave; of Tikki’s legacy—Lady Luck. There was no knowing of what kind of emotion Tikki would show when she finds out. Marinette thanked the gods that Tikki was off today. Chloe raised her hand as another attack was about to land.

Just as fast as she had been thrown to the ground, she was being helped up. Marinette couldn’t thank the security in Lady Luck enough. She didn’t even look back at her rescuer but at the person who helped her up. Alya was fuming and cursing a storm as her rescuer took the brat away. New words were created in anger by the brunette which only put a smile on Marinette’s face despite the situation.

Alya always knew how to cheer her up. Feeling guilty at not knowing who pulled the girl off her, Marinette looked behind her to see only Chloe kicked as she was being lifted away. The only thing she saw of her hero was blonde hair.

* * *

 

 “You come into **_MY LOUNGE_** …” Tikki was livid. Rarely did anyone see the small girl get so upset. Plagg called her instantly when the fight broke out. She was in a simple jeans and a red t-shirt. Wetness on the brim of her collar darkened the top. “Assault **_my DANCERS_** …” The cause of the wetness came forth again on her cheeks. “And _ripped_ a **_treasure_** beyond repair. You don’t look even remotely apologetic.”

Chloe looked away from her file that she was using to file down her broken nails. She glanced at the halves of the mask in both of Tikki’s hands. “She shouldn’t have been on stage.” Her eyes wandered to where Marinette was standing in a ripped uniform. Marinette hadn’t noticed when it happened but when Chloe was lifted off of her, her heel had snagged the many beads and ripped the top layer of the relic. “She should have known better.”

“ _You_ should have known better! Arguments are settled _differently_ here!” Tikki was holding herself back. She did not want to be physical. Angry? Yes. But she would NOT stoop so low that she was seen as the “aggressive employer.” The fact that Chloe’s doting father was also the Mayor and could shut her establishment down was also a factor holding her fist back.

“How are fights settled?” Marinette whispered to Alya. Alya gave a confused smile to her friend only to remember that no one before had challenged the lead while Marinette was here.

“Depends honestly.” Alya started. The world around her kept arguing but listening to Alya came with ease. The rest of the world was muted under the voice of her co-worker. “If Ladybug is a comedian, its standup comedy. It doesn’t matter who the challenger is. The talent of the current Ladybug is the challenge. Magic tricks? You bet someone has to cut a woman in half to win the crown.” Alya motioned to the mask in Tikki’s hands when she mentioned crown. In a way, the mask was a crown for the ruler of the stage. It bestowed the power of confidence and it gave you love from the crowd. Everyone respected the crown.

“So you’re saying someone had to battle Tikki in a comedy battle?” Marinette whispered, hoping the red head didn’t hear her. All of the employees knew deep in their heart that the picture of Tikki and Plagg on stage wasn’t a fake. With all the jokes she cracked to customers—it seemed only logical.

“Comedy? No! You’ve seen her magic tricks. She was a magician!” Plagg stepped next to them. His hands on his hips he watched the red head argue with the mayor’s daughter. He was radiating pride as he spoke. “The best of the best. No one was able to beat her in a challenge.”

“If no one was able to beat her—“ Alya was cut off.

“An accident. She refuses to forgive herself.” Plagg’s gaze never left Tikki. It reminded Marinette of the blonde boy. If anything happened, Plagg would be there in a moment’s notice. “When she does use it, it’s in small doses. Harmless acts like hiding clothing.”

Marinette could have never guessed. Tikki had given up her title to the next in line because of guilt. The fans; the recognition; the power; the love—only because she couldn’t remember how to love herself again.

“That was her prized costume.” Plagg whispered. “She was thrilled to see you want to bring it back to the stage ya know. We both know it begged for the life again.”

Marinette’s heart dropped. She tore Tikki’s outfit. She wore Tikki’s memories. The feeling that came from every fiber of the material was Tikki’s lost confidence. Marinette had found it and took it. No wonder Tikki was upset. She had every reason to be. The early funeral of the relic was brought on by the seamstress herself.

Chloe had stomped off and Tikki was heading towards the girls. Marinette knew her punishment was next. _Was Chloe fired? Am I next?_ “Tikki—I’m sorry! I didn’t know they were yours!” Her voice went fast to get the whole apology in. If she was to be fired, she wanted to know that Tikki knew she was sorry.

“Just do me a favor.” Marinette gulped. _Here it comes. She’s going to ask me to never come back._ “Beat that imposter into the ground.” Tikki had her fists gripping tight to the halves of the mask. The material was beyond repair. Marinette gave the call after it happened. There was nothing she could do for the old friend.

“I will!” Marinette was determined to beat Chloe. She had just found her place on stage and she wasn’t going to be overthrown by a spoiled brat. Chloe, in the past, was left to have whatever she wanted and Marinette was sick of it.

“Dance off is at midnight a week from now.” Tikki wrote on Marinette’s hand the location (Lady Luck), time (midnight), and the song they would be dancing to (Hey Mama, By Nikki Minaj). The marker bled on her hand in a purple hue. Tikki’s eyes fell a bit. “Until then, Chloe is resuming position as Ladybug.”

“Tikki—I” Marinette tried to argue the situation. It wasn’t fair to the bar to keep going back and forth for Ladybug. It was true that over a half a week ago she would have been more than willing to remove her mask. But now? Now is a different story.

“Don’t worry, love,” Tikki gave her a broken smile. “You gave it a good last few days. Better than dry rotting in the basement.” Plagg wrapped his arm around her tiny shoulders and led her away. She held one hand over his and glanced back apologetically. “It called to you. There’s no apologies needed.”

* * *

 

Sabine offered her daughter a glass of water who was cursing over sheets of crumbled paper. Her hand rubbed circles through Marinette’s navy jacket. Each design was more and more revealing but none matched her version of Ladybug. After her chat with Alya, she knew her outfit had to be on Chloe’s taste level. A week wasn’t close to enough for a new design and actually creating the outfit.

“Something to grab their attention.” Marinette curved a plunge neckline. “But humble.” A jacket with rounded tails. She made it form fitting and cut off before the belly button. The tails were outlined in black, like the pockets and lapels. “Pants?”

“G-string.” Sabine took a pencil of her own and drew thin lines over the croquis. Marinette eased up a little bit and swatted at her mother’s hand. Laughter overflowing the room, they agreed on cheekies with two ties on the hips. Her mother gave her daughter a hug when the finished design was shoved in the air exclaiming hallelujahs.  

For the next few hours, Marinette shopped for fabric with her mother. They rarely saw each other these days but they picked up every second together and treasured it. “This one!” Sabine smiled. She was holding blue silk. Almost on board until you see the duckies stamped on them.

“Mom!” Marinette couldn’t catch her breath. She had laughed so much on the way here that there was no more air left in the world to fill those empty lungs.

“Listen now, your mother once worked at Lady Luck too you know.” Sabine stood tall despite being short and stared at her daughter in the eyes. Marinette tried to regain composure but laughter slipped through.

“You never told me that.” Marinette giggled.

“Oh yea,” Sabine dragged on the phrase. With a smooth motion, she returned the fabric to its place on the shelf and continued looking for actual candidates. “All the kids who couldn’t chase their dreams without extra cash. How did you think I opened my shop?”

“That’s crazy.” Bolts of fabric were being placed on Marinette’s open arms. Her mom was definitely listening but was also in her own little world of picking fabrics. Marinette pressed on with all the curiosity to amount to 40 college kids. “Was your Ladybug as crazy as mine?”

“You could say that.” She hummed. “The owners were always so hilarious. Like opposites.”

“That’s probably where Tikki and Plagg get it from. Owners always have big shoes to fill.” It would make sense that the new owners would be trained by the old ones. Maybe the bar was in the family. That would explain the picture above the bar. They probably just really look like their parents. _Apples don’t fall too far from the—_

“Tikki and—you mean they still work there?” Sabine had a hand still on the butt of the bolt but her mouth was gaped. Hearing those names was like saying there was a ghost behind her. Her tiny figure was mostly hidden by the mountain of bolts so Marinette could only see a floating head.

“Still? Mom they’re my age.” Marinette reassured her with another laugh. Her throat had begun to hurt with how much her mother made her chuckle tonight. Her mother hummed an “oh” and slid the bolt she had pulled back into its slot.

There was no more discussion about Tikki or Plagg that night or for any night to come between Sabine and her daughter, Marinette.


	6. Highlights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start this fun rollercoaster I wanted to share with you some art I had commissioned over the last few days by typosanderrors.tumblr.com . They drew for me a beautiful rendition of Marinette's current outfit. 
> 
> http://typosanderrors.tumblr.com/post/141137343589/commissioned-piece-for-picturedartists-ml
> 
> If you're looking for something commissioned, they're definitely the person to go to! I recommend them 10/10

Marinette buttoned the last button on her new overcoat. She pinched the material on her bottom and released it into a new position. The stage was lonely with only a single spot light to keep it company. Nino had left it on after the 2 am call special for her. When Chloe took the stage back into her grasp, Marinette didn’t dare step up to the pole. Her jazz shoes begged to be slipped on. There was a lot of practice to do and she didn’t want Chloe to steal her act so grabbing the stage after hours was the only option.

 The key to lock up laid on the table closest to the stage entrusted to her by the infuriated red head. It bothered her to practice after the bar closed because she knew there was no chance her secret admirer could bring flowers. Her room was filled to the brim with vases filled with flowers—all with different meanings—and she could get enough of them.

She had a total of five bouquets sleeping in her room. The original begging for forgiveness and admiring her talent. The next few had multiple meanings but they all came back to being thankful or wishing luck to the receiver. Then there was the bouquet from the night of Chloe’s challenge. This bouquet was different from the others. While the other had sporadic meanings this one was solid. There was only one flower: the blue violet. _I’ll always be there._

Beating the flush off of the girl’s face was a futile attempt but she took solace in knowing she at least tried. She missed seeing the bouquet lying next to her street clothes with care. She missed deciphering the meanings behind the flowers before asking her mother for a clean message. She missed how her mom would arrange the many blooming flowers into a vase and Marinette would scurry to the top of the stairs without spilling a drop to put them in her room. She missed the individual smell of each flower as she danced with them across the dressing room floor.

She missed her cat.

This was the first time she admitted to herself to missing him. This was the first time she admitted to herself that it wasn’t because she _had_ to walk by his dressing room to see if he had returned rather than she was compelled to. That dork smile, those stupid cat puns, the private visits to fix his outfits, the pestering to dance on stage, the urge to dance with him, Marinette missed it all. The fact that she missed all of it so much made her frustrated.

Not only did missing him annoy her but the elephant in the room fact that he hadn’t returned made her even more annoyed. Although she was almost 100% certain that he was leaving her flowers, she had never seen him in the bar since she yelled at him. There was never any card. It was possible that someone else was leaving them. There was always that blonde boy.

_That blonde boy_. Marinette smiled from ear to ear. Sure she missed her blonde numb nut more than anything but that blonde boy put butterflies where Marinette never thought they could thrive. The way he looked at her gave her more motivation to dance than a 1,000 nights filled with screaming fans. She didn’t need to talk to him to know she was his sun. Many times she had to fight the urge to jump off the stage and grip him by the collar. He was almost a myth and she wanted to prove to herself that he existed. _Maybe…maybe **he’s** leaving the flowers._

Maybe he didn’t mean anything by the flowers themselves. They first time she saw the flowers was on the night she first saw him. Maybe he was looking for her when she was a waitress and finally got up the courage to get her flowers. Not everyone gets flowers based on their meaning! It was completely logical that he could have thought they were pretty and instantly thought of her.

Marinette flung herself onto the stage in a fluster. Her hands scrubbed at her huge smile trying to rub it away. At the end of the day, someone was sending her flowers and it was going to take something earth shattering to make her think it was anyone other than the boy that stole her away with just a glance.

Her belly was warm with the fluttering that the butterflies were producing and the feeling was indescribable. Next time—for sure—she’d talk to him. She was going to get a name and thank him for the flowers. She fussed with her hands while deep in thought. _He’d smile at me and say—_

“It’s been a while, My Lady.” _Definitely not what he would say._ “Bar’s closed.” _Wait—_

“Chat Noir?” Marinette’s head shot up from looking at her hands. Blue met green. The butterflies that were dancing around her stomach were bursting at the seams and begging release. Chat Noir was perched very carefully on top of the bar counter that Marinette had seen Plagg polish at least 6 times throughout the day. His boots would definitely leave a foot print on the polished wood.

How long had he been there? Not even the cat had an answer. Had he seen the practices out of costume or her change into the new costume? Had he seen her swing around from table to table as she practiced her floor sweep of the crowd? He jumped down from the bar in one fell swoop and ghosted over the floor before landing. Marinette swore with every passing second that he was more and more like a cat than any human has ever been.

Marinette watched him approach her with the infamous sly grin. Just when she gripped onto the idea that she missed him she realized her anger for his disappearance outweighed the prior. Words swam in her head as the fire building in her belly burned the wings of the innocent butterflies.

“Where have you been?” Her tone was meant to be harsh but they came out soft and non-confrontational. Guilt struck the boy instantly but he continued over. He pulled a long rose that lacked any thorns. The closer he got the more she realized the bud was made of foil. The leaves hanging from the foil were tags from the store labeling the chocolate rose.

“Catnapping.” The rose was offered to Marinette. There was no possible way that he was responsible for the beautiful bouquets night after night. He just showed he wasn’t capable of thinking to bring real flowers. “I was behind on my purr-fect complexion. I needed my beauty rest.”

“You are already pretty, Chat,” Marinette smiled down at her hands peeling away the foil on the rose made of chocolate. Each petal was a separate pip of rich dark candy. Her anger melted away like the pip she threw in her mouth. It certainly was no ordinary chocolate rose.  “Pretty cheesy. Don’t you have somewhere else to be at three in the morning? Like sleeping?”

“I’m right where I want to be, My Lady.” Blood ran to her cheeks when that leather clad boy smiled at her. She could only hope her Ladybug mask covered up the flush. The smile wasn’t cocky and it wasn’t asking for anything but a smile in return.  

He got one.

The corners of her mouth began to ache with how big she was smiling. Chat beaming with pride looked her once over. Marinette was proud of her new creation so she let him take it all in. She picked up a remote off the table and begins the music _. “_ Take Me on the Floor” by The Veronicas boomed through the speakers. “Well don’t get in the way of my practice, kitty.”

“You have my word, Princess” He bowed respectfully and took a seat. By the time she made it to the stage, the instrumental opening had faded away. Her eyes never left the boy even for an instant. She walked around the stage—working it with all she’s got. Her moves were simple and precise—just enough to make the crowd fall in love with her. Not that the crowd ever needed any help.

Her legs picked up the pace when the music began to climb. The green eyes watched her and brought the familiarity of the stage rushing back to her. The beat timed perfectly with her strut toward the pole. Confidence painted on her face she traced the buttons of her jacket. She popped the buttons one by one without looking away from the boy.

“ ** _Take me on the floor_** ” The ladybug jacket was discarded to the ground. “ ** _dadada da dadadada_** ” Her hands guided her hips back and forth with the beat. “ ** _I can’t take it anymore_** ” Marinette lowered herself to the ground where her crotch greeted the pole. She parted her rouge painted lips slightly and ground against the cold metal while pretending to moan under the music’s spell.  

**_“I want you, I want you, I want you to show me love.”_** Marinette rolled her hips again but this time it was to return to her feet. Her feet didn’t get much time to acclimate before Marinette was hugging the pole with her thighs with her back to the crowd. With the words ‘show me love’, she arched her back and extended one leg to the sky. Her pigtails framed her face as she smirked to the only one watching her. Letting her extended leg fall behind her she back flipped off the pole and turned to look at the cat.

His mouth was slightly open to which Marinette’s response was to use a single finger to close it. Chat Noir shook the daze from his eyes and leaned in close to her. Marinette tried to look at anything on his face other than the eyes that were burning into her. “You and I were truly made for each other.” She was looking at his lips when those words were beautifully formed so she knew instantly that he was going to kiss her.

“Unfortunately that’s all I’ve got.” Marinette laughed with a finger pushing his forehead away from her. There was no shock on the dancer’s face. This was a very common occurrence in which he was very used to. Marinette retrieved her jacket from the stage and fastened it close to her. Arms akimbo she stood in front of Chat Noir in pursuit of answers.

“Well if you’re going to beat Chloe,” He rose to his feet, passed her by, and approached the stage. He looked over his shoulder at her. Blond hair fell over his black spandex tank top. “You’re going to need more than that.”

“I need to do more than just show up?” Marinette feigned surprise with a fanned out hand over her deep red lipstick. Laughter bubbled out of the hero. He ruffled his hair into an unruly mess but somehow it landed back into place. “And how do you think I should dance?”

“Watch…and don’t forget this part.” Chat Noir winked at the girl who had closed herself off to any new ideas. Her arms were crossed and her eyes almost constantly rolling at him. His hands were lost causing them to wander and explore the black spandex top before discovering the hem. He teased around his belly button with his abs poking through before shedding the unwanted material.

Marinette knew of a few things in that moment. One, Chat Noir had abs of steel from all of his acrobat routines. This makes complete sense but never did Marinette ever register that he would be so toned. Two, he’s gotten to the second verse and she hasn’t seen one move. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She fixated a little too much movement on his abdomen. Three, that butterflies chose when and where they grouped to flutter to which she had no say in the matter.

If it was up to her, Marinette would stay in the clouds for the rest of the morning but the blond brought her crashing down to earth. He had a hand outstretched to her. Despite herself, she took the offer and was launched to her feet. Her chest rammed itself into him with the sheer velocity of the lift onto stage. An arm curled around her cradling her close to prevent her from falling.

On stage, they parted but remained hand in hand. Chat spun her around so she faced the crowd. His arm was wrapped around her torso from the spin but refused to let go. Marinette sighed and leaned her head back against his solid form. She really did miss him.

“You’re going to be great, Mari.” He affirmed. Her eyes drooped a little bit with exhaustion as she scanned the empty room. In a few days, there was going to be an unsustainable amount of people in here. Tikki had Nino print off many fliers and advertise on their website the battle of the times. Marinette spoke to Tikki about allowing her to change the song she would be dancing to. She tried a couple times but couldn’t find her groove in the song. Rules were traditionally set by the crown holder but Tikki made the exception for Marinette since Chloe had acted out of turn.

Every challenge to the head was backed up by selling tickets at twenty euro a pop that was accompanied with a ticket for one small drink. Last time she checked, the place was almost sold out. Last battle was two years ago and the crowd had a thirst for the drama. The cover page for the dance off was a picture of Marinette doing an arabesque on the stage with a blown up picture of Chloe behind her. It included the time and place above Chloe’s head and the respected songs below the stage Marinette stood on. “I’ve got front row seat to see your dance.”

“Thank you, Chat.” Marinette untangled herself from his strong arms and escaped to the edge of the stage.

_Not tonight. I’m just tired._ Marinette fixed her bangs behind her ear. She was still facing the blond who was welcoming her back over. His body was relaxed and welcoming but Marinette couldn’t bring herself to get that close for an extended period of time.

  _I’m just tired._

Marinette playfully bounced to the back of the stage yet not losing sight of her kitty. A smile bloomed on his face as he leaned forward like he was going to race toward the finish line. Marinette bounded off into a full sprint with Chat Noir close behind her. With all the practice they had using the pole on the stage, it was easy to jump over tables and swing around obstacles in this game of tag. She knew she wasn’t faster than him but god knew she was clever. Slipping under tables and pulling chairs into his way, the game proceeded to almost being the highlight of her night.

Marinette hid behind the pole with Chat stuck on the other side. Her smile split in two by the long line to the ceiling in the eyes of the boy. He stopped for a moment and tried to keep his composure. The cold air of winter showed his labored breaths. Tikki had turned off the heat before leaving the bar for the night since it was to only be just the practicing girl. Marinette knew deep down that it was supposed to encourage her to go home after an hour or so and not to stay up till daybreak.

“Give up, Chat.” Her giggle produced its own little cloud of air. “You won’t catch me.”

“Oh yeah?” Chat Noir returned the laughter. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned forward with great confidence. His lax stance was definitely cocky. Acting like he had already won, he continued. “And if I do?”

The girl smirked. _Shut up! You’re **tired.**_ “Well, it tastes like chocolate.” **_STOP._** The blond straightened up. He went from playful to serious with those few words. His breath hitched and his body language betrayed him by telling the story of being uncontrollably flustered. One boot forward, Marinette took a gentle step back.

They were mirror images of each other for a few moments before Marinette just stopped. Chat Noir continued his pursuit of the small girl. Her mind could not stop screaming. _Marinette, you’re tired. Stop him. He won’t—_

Chat Noir cupped Marinette’s cheek. _You didn’t want it like this._ Marinette closed her eyes and shut the voices in her head on mute. If, at the moment, it seems right. It’s the way to be. Yes, she was tired, but something about him had always set her on fire. Most of the time he was ripping her handiwork so she couldn’t feel anything but anger. She leaned into the warm touch of his hand and snaked her arms under his and found his shoulders. In a joint effort of meeting in the middle and, with bumped noses, they finally found each other.

The hot breath on her skin sent shivers down her spine. He smelled like wild flowers and Marinette only wondered what he tasted like. Her eyes fluttered open in time to see Chat close his. Chat’s free arm held her closer to him and lent her his body heat in the frigid bar. Marinette had to remind herself not to hold her breath before the kiss. Lack of air could cut the moment short and Marinette wanted nothing more than for that moment to last.

Marinette made the final leap and pressed her lips against the hero’s. His arm tensed behind her for a moment then melted against her. With all the strength he had left, he raised it to her other cheek in a vain effort to bring her closer to him. There was smiling and giggling in between breathes of air. This was it. The highlight of her night.


	7. A Lesson To Be Learned

 

Marinette pulled the brown string taut, then snipped it close to her client’s body. Once she stood back and shook her hand free of the loose thread, Martinette came face-to-face with her client. 

 

Alya’s forehead and nose were nearly pressed to the seamstress’s with the strength of her conviction. Brown dug into blue with such ferocity that Marinette felt forced to look away. 

 

“Spill,” Alya ordered shortly. Marinette’s voice wavered with nervous laughter as she fumbled to reply.

 

“I… I don’t know what you mean.” 

 

Alya pressed forward,a secure measure to trap her visibly anxious co-worker. “Girl, if I have to point him out,” Alya said, looked behind her and then back to Marinette, “I’m gonna have to slap you.” 

 

Marinette pulled away to find the source of her friend’s exasperation. Across the room, the leather clad boy was perched on the common room’s fainting couch with his full attention on the two girls. With the sudden attention, he perked up and waved at the seamstress. No matter how much others tried to grab his attention, Chat Noir kept focusing back on the girl he caught the night prior. 

 

“Ah.” Marinette breathed, not even sounding convincing to herself, a word of feigned realization which prompted a  _ loud _ response from Alya: 

 

“ _ Ah?  _ That’s it?” Not quite losing composure - but coming really close - Alya crossed her arms, eyeing her friend down. When she spoke next it was in a grudging mumble, so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Something is most  _ definitely  _ up, and it’s not like you to keep a dude in the dark.” 

 

“Nothing happened.” Marinette protested. She still feared to make eye contact. Alya just readjusted by slipping in front of the girl; forcing to be noticed. 

 

“ _ Something _ happened.”  _ Something did happen but-but you don’t need to know.  _ Marinette thought to herself for a little bit before spinning a story that she hopes quenched Alya’s thirst for knowledge.

 

“He just helped me with my routine.” It wasn’t a complete lie but it was far from the truth. Chat Noir  _ did _ help her with her routine by rooting her on but it wasn’t the only thing they accomplished. 

 

“Whatever girl. Keep your secrets.”

 

“ _ Hello,”  _ came a long drawn-out protest from near the door. The person responsible for the whining was no other than the blonde. Chloe was decked out in sequins and beadwork with tumbling jewels off her rump. The problem with her outfit was plain to see. The person in charge of tying off the beads half assed their work to save time and it resulted in strands of beading slipping off- line after line. “I’ve been waiting for you to finish for like an  _ hour! _ ” Lies; it'd been like five minutes, but Marinette was willing to make her wait a lifetime.

 

“I would like to remind you that Chloe is  _ the _ Ladybug and is to be seen  _ before _ all the other dancers.” Sabrina popped up by Chloe’s side to point out the fine print in Marinette’s contract. Sabrina had been upgraded to help the diva in any way possible. Plagg even supplied her with a black suit to run around backstage in.

 

Chloe had her utilize the suit as often as possible. During Chloe’s act, she’d be in charge of the music (with an irritated Nino behind her), she’d direct the fog machine, and she’d hand her props from off stage. Marinette knew of the aforementioned rule, but seeing someone try to enforce it only aggravated her. 

 

“Chat Noir!” Chloe’s voice chirped above the chatter between the others in the room-causing everyone to stare at her. Chat pivoted slightly to face her with a patient aura about him. How he was able to manhandle the diva was beyond even Sabrina. “What are you doing hanging around with these losers?”

 

“Oh, Chloe…” His voice was apologetic to anyone who might have felt hurt from her harsh words. Chat shifted to completely look at her with intent to set the situation straight but as the queen bee would have it, he did not have a chance to speak further.

 

“Since you have no other business with this cheap dancer, why don’t you come over here and fix my jewels?” 

 

“In a minute, Chloe.” Marinette calmly requested. 

 

“I say let your seam ripper slip.” Alya mumbled into Marinette’s ear as she was trying to rethread her needle to the needed color. With surprise, Marinette almost dropped the thin metal.

 

“Alya!”

 

“Just saying.” Snickered Alya in return.

 

Chat guided his partner(in name only) through the door and excused himself from the room. As soon as he left, the room burst into chatter over what had transpired and what was going on between Marinette and her cat. The two girls were about to get comfortable when the boy popped back into the room.

 

“Oh, and Mari?” Marinette perked up. In the background, a rampaging Chloe was stomping around while yelling expletives. Chat Noir’s head was the only thing in view, but Marinette knew the rest of him was holding back her competitor. “After the bar closes, we’ll work on your ballet basics!”

 

Before Marinette could argue, the boy was gone again. Without looking at Alya’s knowing look Marinette proclaimed, “see? Just  _ practice _ !”

 

_ It was just practice.  _

  
  


* * *

 

 

Marinette closed the door behind her with a quiet click. Everyone in the bar had vanished when the two a.m. call came, and it was up to the two of them now to keep the stage company. Chat was already waiting for her on the edge of the stage. 

 

He had changed from his stage clothes into tight leggings and a loose, tucked shirt, his mask and hair done in the same way as before. Marinette was in something similar, along with a thigh-length skirt, and advanced a few wary steps. Chat glanced up from his cellphone at that point and brightened when he saw her, offering a cheerful wave. 

 

Marinette knew nothing had changed between the two of them, at the same time everything did. He was still that dorky cat that flexed for attention, and she was still the seamstress on call. Ignoring their kiss wasn’t the best option, but it was the option she was going to take. 

 

_ I’ll tell him tonight.  _

 

Marinette squared herself up and moved to meet the eager boy. “Chat, I--” was all she managed before Chat took her hand up to his lips. 

 

His eyes were locked on hers till the moment his lips brushed her knuckles. Never did he stop smiling--even when he pulled away. He had it bad, Marinette knew that. Hell--Marinette knew the whole time. But knowing and accepting weren’t quite the same thing, at least not for her.. 

 

He pulled her onstage. And he spun her, and he dipped her, and with every move Marinette felt the guilt weigh on her heart more and more. She  _ knew  _ he had it bad. So did she. Marinette ached to tell the boy who watched her without fail every time she danced. The way her stomach flipped more times than she did. The smile she was able only to give to him. 

 

And it wasn’t fair. Marinette knew. Chat deserved better than lies, and that kiss definitely was one. She had been tired. There was no possible way she would have done it with a clear head. She would have stopped. She would have let him know that there was someone else on her mind-- there was someone else that kiss was for.

 

Marinette couldn’t blame Chat Noir for doing what he did. She let him do it--hell, she kissed him back. 

 

The kiss. 

 

The feeling of the alley cat on her melted and squeezed its way into every part of her brain. Every memory ended with the scene of her and her co-worker. The way he could barely stand but held on to her so tightly. The moments when she pulled away she knew was hurting him. He wished for more kisses--which he promptly received. Over and over she lied to him and no amount of words could ask for forgiveness.

 

“I don’t think Alya approves of us,” Chat all but purred from behind her. 

 

They were supposed to be practicing their basic ballet, but the session turned into a crude therapy session, and the only target she had in mind was the one who was guiding her feet. 

 

Chat’s hands were strong, and there was nary a chance that she would fall. The care he put into holding her seemed to curtain the whole  dance floor. It gave Marinette a calmed heart, room to breathe, and courage to give the boy the news he needed to hear.

 

“I haven’t...told her.” The confession could have been any combination of words in the world, and Chat would still have looked at her the same. 

 

“Oh. Well, she’s going to freak when she  _ does  _ hear.” 

 

His laughter was genuine and hopeful as he pulled her back to her feet and turned her around. Marinette returned to third position, where Chat corrected the stance of her arm by a few inches, and patted the air from her belly. With the air up in her chest like she had practiced for many years before but neglected in situations like this, she continued to disappoint her advisor.

 

“I don’t think I’m going to tell her,” she said with an oof. Chat fidgeted her other arm a few inches and Marinette found it was more comfortable when he helped her. Chat rested both of his hands on Marinette’s hips. The familiarity was welcomed. Deep down Marinette understood that it was still the boy who cried alterations, and he would never be a stranger to her.

 

“A secret relationship.” Chat Noir lifted Marinette off the ground by a few feet in which Marinette responded by fluttering her feet back and forth. After a few times, he spun her to face him. His smile was as big as always, and shone just as brightly as his eyes were. “I like it.” Slowly, Chat lifted her above him till she got a complete aerial view of him. Marinette supported herself on his shoulders and pointed her legs in the spread eagle position. “Although, I thought you’d have fun holding it over Chloe’s head.”

 

Marinette broke. 

 

“There’s no relationship, Chat,” she said,  closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his expression. He deserved someone better than who she was turning out to be. She was good at sewing and that was it. Despite practicing every night for the upcoming battle, Marinette knew this world belonged to Chat Noir, not to her. She was only a passing figure- a side character to his wonderful story. 

 

“I’m sorry,”she added softly. The words echoed throughout the hall repeatedly for them, even though the world around them was silent. It was only after the fifth repetition that she opened her eyes to meet him. The expression she was greeted with at first sight was a replica of the face she made the night she ran back to Chat’s empty dressing room. Disappointed and slightly broken, but definitely able to be repaired. She was returned to the ground with care. The amount of force of her feet was barely a patter upon impact. Marinette stumbled over a few choice words to continue her long needed apology for the night before. 

 

“No need to apologize, Bugaboo.” There were no excuses for what she had done nor was there any way to properly make amends to the hurt boy. Marinette tried to read Chat’s expression, but Chat Noir allowed no more than a millisecond of face time during the rest of the practice. The knowledge he had about the most comfortable way to hold a position was priceless. Marinette, on a normal day, would want to write down the words of wisdom he gave her. Today, she was focusing on any indication of where their relationship would go from there.  

 

“He must be lucky.” His whispers broke the silence between the motions. Marinette hesitated in her pirouette resulting in stumbling and almost falling over. True to his nature, Chat leveled her out and supported her till she regained footing. Marinette pulled her hair behind her bright red ears.

 

“What makes you think there is someone else?” A mixture of guilt and red painted her face as she looked away from Chat Noir enough to just keep him in her periff. 

 

“How else can you keep your eyes off me?” And with that smile. That loving smile. That smile that can kill the masses--shone at her. And in those moments, those lovely unforgettable moments, Marinette knew they were okay. And nothing else in the world would ever matter now or ever again. Chat Noir and his seamstress would still be the same.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know sugar bean…” Volpina continued to call her multiple pet names, all involving baking terms. Cookie after cookie disappeared into the wide grin of the bartender. If anyone else tried to nab a cookie from her, Marinette was positive they’d lose their arm. “I wasn’t always this cool and collected, amazing, hot piece of ass that you’ve admired since day one.” Marinette stifled a laugh. Volpina was always the eccentric, fun-loving, barista that she couldn’t imagine her being anyone else.

 

Marinette, in a fit of emotion, called her friend for help. After the ballet session naturally dismissed, Marinette pulled her phone out and wrangled Volpina out into the night to talk. Volpina didn’t mind coming out so late, but everything - including four a.m. calls to “the office” - came with a price. Marinette was able to run home and retrieve the payment in time before Volpina walked through the door. Since it was so late(early), Marinette’s parents had already risen and product was already in the oven. Snagging a couple of cookies and putting them in a tin was child’s play.

 

“You’re just saying that.” Marinette shifted her hands in her lap. Even with the cat long gone, she was anxious that he was somewhere around the corner. Volpina displayed much confidence despite being dressed in a one piece fox pajama set. The orange complimented her dark brown hair. On the top of her head were perky black tipped ears which somehow showed her unbridled excitement while eating the cookies. 

 

“I’m serious!” Volpina’s leg swung out to kick the girl sitting across from her in a playful manner. Marinette retracted with a feigned howl of pain before Volpina could continue. “You see, when I came here, I couldn’t do anything but lie to people. I wanted to be on stage--right next to Chat Noir!” Her arms flailed back and forth in an act of theatrical expression.

 

“So did you chall--”

 

“I challenged the Ladybug. She kicked my lovely ass. She was a singer and we all know from experience that I cannot sing.” Volpina struck a few notes and Marinette guarded her ears. After placating herself with another cookie she continued. “So anyways--Plagg took me in on the bar side. I was amazing. When I first started, I juggled the bottles in a way that made my mixing look like magic. A year or two later, Ladybug vanished! Out of nowhere, no note, no nothing. Though they were sad, Tikki and Plagg didn’t show any signs of hope that she would return. I started telling everybody that I was still in contact with her and she was my best friend.”

 

“A liiiiie,” Marinette’s voice sang when it poked through the monologue.

 

“Yes, a lie. I felt almost that something in me reset and I was back in my ways. I wasn’t as happy as when i spoke the truth. I told people to call me Volpina, though it isn’t my real name. Since it's similar to Vixen or Small Fox, I thought it fit perfectly.”

 

“Sounds made up. Isn’t weird in a place like this.” Marinette snatched a cookie and nibbled on the edges. The brunette glared at her with pointed daggers. The betrayal was the event of the century. She knew the Volpina would never let it go.

 

“It’s Italian. How could you not know?” Her voice was incredulous. Her response came so quick that Marinette questioned herself as to why she didn’t know Italian.

 

“I’m not Italian?” Marinette’s voice peaked. 

 

“You’re speaking Italian right now.” Volpina pushed hard. She was sure in her mind that right now that they were speaking another language. 

 

“You can stop fibbing Volpina.” Marinette teased. She confiscated the tin that Volpina had in her grasp and held it above her head. Collateral to stop talking crazy. The fox’s eyes grew wide and she reached for the tin in vain. 

 

“Alright, alright you got me! It was a fib!” Volpina was rewarded with the tin again but her face didn’t match her statement. Her eyes looked back and forth between the tin and Marinette. It was as if she was deciding it was worth continuing to talk about or to just move on. Gripping tight to her reward, she chose to move on. “Well the thing is, no one knows my name. I haven’t told Tikki or Plagg my name and I just kept it a secret. I feel as if I am able to give out my name, I could finally be honest with myself.” 

 

“Lying eats you up doesn’t it.” Marinette’s was soft and understanding. It wasn’t til Volpina opened her mouth did she realize this talk was aimed at her instead of the fox just talking about her origin. Volpina was trying to give her something that took her years to obtain. 

 

“What’s it do to you?” Realization. Understanding that lying may help you in the time being and be a band-aid for the now but in the later moments can become a hindrance. _ The truth will set you free _ is always something that she heard but never seen in practice. 

 

“It wasn’t a lie.” Marinette murmured.

 

“Then what was it?” The retort felt like a knife in Marinette’s gut and it was so fast that she could barely react to it. Volpina only smiled and rose to her feet. The container in her hand, she made her way over to the exit. The fake fox tail trailed behind her with each sway of her hips. The door swung open with such ferocity that it almost came off the hinges. 

 

The roads seen beyond the doorframe were foreign and not the ones she was accustomed to seeing day in and day out. When she retrieved Volpina’s snack, it was calm. The weather didn’t fluctuate that much, did it? The sun was coming out and there was almost a halo around the girl. She looked pure, innocent...and a little bit at peace. 

 

“Wait, Volpina!” Marinette shouted after the girl in the doorway. Peaked with curiosity, Volpina turned around to face the seamstress. The light shone behind her so much now that her body was a silhouette of a fox. The light came out in a blinding way, as if the clouds had hidden it’s glory. “What  _ is _ your name?”

 

“Lila.” Through the blackness of the silhouette, Marinette made out a grin. From ear to ear she knew that Volpina, no, Lila felt great. Lila was finally able to come to terms with herself and say her name. It may seem small but it was something to her and that’s all that mattered. Lila waved a goodbye and walked out the door. The wind from outside slammed the heavy door shut. 

  
The loud thud was the last audible sound in the bar that morning. Marinette gathered her stuff and exited the same door she saw the other leave through. Albeit, the skyline was different and the wind was non-existent. The world around her was familiar again and Marinette walked herself home into the rising sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the long awaited dance off! Hold onto your pants!


	8. The Passion Flower

"Mari, pah-lease! We both know you will do just fine." Alya's voice was booming through the speaker on Marinette's pink phone. If Marinette had not known the circumstances, Alya's carefree words could pass today off as any other day. Although, this was not the case. Marinette had awoken to a blinking red light foreshadowing the important message. Instantly, she followed up on the matter.

Alya had texted Marinette just a few hours prior to Marinette waking up to let her know that she couldn't make it to her show. Nino had to be rushed off during the night to the ER to treat a head injury with a flustered Alya on their tail. ' _He's fine now_!' Alya assured in the text message. They were keeping him another day for testing. Despite having security, Lady Luck was not exempt from the occasional idiot.

It was so stupid how it happened. Lady Luck's audio booth was steps away from the ground floor. It was easily accessible and, more times than not, unlocked. Nino preferred being the DJ but on nights when very little entertainers showed up, he'd fill a spot or two. His acts were 50% rapping solo and 50% challenging the crowd to a rap battle. The more people in the crowd, the more likely he was going to throw down some sick beats. The crowd loved it. Nino would turn the fog machine on and the challenger would get a mic.

There were times when there were requests for Nino to go on stage. One of the many reasons he kept the door unlocked was to properly receive these comments. It also made it quick for the employees to come in and change a song without having to bring attention to themselves, as yelling always does. In Nino's mind, there were more good reasons rather than bad to keep it open to the public. This resulted in the accident.

It started as a normal request for Nino to appear. Alya claimed it was a sore loser from a previous rap that was trying to reclaim lost glory. Being that it was the night before the long awaited Dance Off between Ladybug and Marinette, he had a lot of work to do. This response was not taken lightly by the customer. In Alya's later report, the customer was not only a sore loser, but also a drunk.

Alya would brag to everyone that Nino was unbeatable and would egg them on when the topic arose. A time or two, Chat Noir and Nino would hash it out. As Alya would predict, Nino would win. Those battles were always interesting to watch. The crowd would walk away wondering who they were talking about in their rap. Their raps equated to frustrated bro-talks about their crushes not noticing them but would return their complaint with a quip at why the other fails at being a person.

Marinette was the only one to decode their banter. Through this, Marinette realized that her best friend was the prime suspect of Nino's crush. Talks between Alya and herself would result in the predetermined, 'I only love Lady Luck'. Despite the response, it was clear Nino's feelings were reciprocated. It was also evident that neither of them could see that.

Marinette knew that Nino ran the website for Lady Luck but Alya was the sole content writer. Nino made her a section on the website labeled "The Ladyblog" to keep her busy. This is where Alya could tell curious patreons Ladybug's plans for her next performance or costume change.

When Nino wasn't in the sound booth and Alya wasn't on stage, they could be found together backstage huddled over a computer. If you listen, Nino tried talking about coding and Alya didn't stop talking about dancing. It was foreigners talking their native language to each other despite the fact that they couldn't understand a word of it. With the content of their conversations off the table, all there was left was passion. They could sit in silence and still understand each other. They always could. How the idea that the other one liked them back ran over their head, no one could explain.

The turned down request go Nino hit on the back of his head with a glass bottle. Nino fell instantly followed by his attacker moments after. Alya was on the stage at the time and saw the argument begin. Despite her training to ignore the bar fights, she climbed off stage to check on the

DJ. Before she was able to reach the booth, the conversation got out of hand. After Nino went down, Alya called out to him.

The "sore-loser-drunk" spun to her with the broken glass in his hand. He got a few swipes in before Alya grabbed the closest thing to her and returned one good swoop at his head. It wasn't til after the man went down did Alya realize it was a chair in her hands. Paramedics were called and carted off the two unconscious men. Alya's cuts were treated on the scene to prevent infection. After she was treated she followed the ambulance in her car.

"You're always just fine, girl. You don't need me in the crowd." That was the problem. Marinette knew she would do fine. She wanted a reason to do fantastic. She didn't _need_ Alya in the crowd. She was wanted there. Fine might not be enough to push Chloe from the title. Marinette didn't know what trick Chloe had up her sleeve and it scared her. If it was a clean fight between both parties, her confidence would be higher.

"Yea Marinette, you'll win for sure!" A male voice in the background of the phone call encouraged her. There was a bunch of shuffling then Alya continued through the speaker.

"See? Even Nino believes in you." The quality deteriorated. Alya sounded more distant but still attentive.

"Nino, is there going to be anyone there tonight to run the special effects and the music?" Marinette called out to the boy in the background. She hadn't realized she was raising her voice now that she was on speaker til she got feedback from her earpiece.

"Chill girl, we can hear you." Alya was quick to reprimand.

"Plagg is taking over for the night. Again, I am so sorry Marinette." Nino apologized before an argument could begin between the best friends.

"Its not your fault Nino, Alya on the other hand…"

"Someone's got to keep him company." Alya's reply was curt.

"There's TV."

Silence proceeded. Marinette couldn't imagine how this phone call was making Nino feel. It wasn't his fault people are full of crazy. _Change the topic Mari..._

"I haven't been able to get a hold of Li-" Marinette stopped. It dawned on her that Lila had just given Marinette her real name. She did it in confidence and Marinette knew she had to keep that trust with her friend. Lila might mind. She might not. "Volpina-just yet."

"I'm sure she'll show up." Alya's voice was apologetic but spoke of the dance as if it was the holy grail. "It's your biggest performance."

"Didn't stop you." Marinette was quick with her come back. It was a taste of bitterness mixed with hurt feelings. She had fully expected all her friends to be there to watch her wipe the floor with Chloe's entitled act. They were the first in line to buy tickets. Not that it mattered any more whether they had tickets or not.

"Girl you know I wouldn't miss it for the world," Alya's words were only met with a grunt. She stumbled a minute before blurting an apology. They could argue about it all day but deep down, Alya was Marinette's best friend. Under any other circumstances, she would be there. "I'm gonna make it up to you."

"Oh and hey, Marinette! Homeboy is gonna be there to watch you. He bought a ticket earlier this morning."

"Thanks Nino, feel better." Marinette smiled and swiped the call to end. At least Chat would be there. One out of four was better than none out of four. Who knows-they might be released early and surprise her.

* * *

Tikki handed another drink to a laughing duo while scanning the crowd for the second act to show. It was an hour before Chloe went on stage and Marinette was nowhere in sight. The idea that Chloe would win another battle because she intimidated her challenger or bullied them into backing out crept to the forefront of Tikki's mind.

Tikki knew better than to doubt Marinette but she worried about the girl none the less. An hour to go and the room was nearly full. Her tray teetered with full glasses that she was distributing to impatient customers. When she leaned down to hand a beer to a cursing man, she spotted blond hair. She left the man, who was clearly upset over how packed the place was, and made a beeline towards the boy who gazed at the stage.

"Adrien…" Tikki whispered in the blond's ear. She handed another glass out while awaiting the answer to her plea. The blond perked up, twisted in his seat, and looked at Tikki dead on.

"I'm sorry ma'am, have we met?" His voice was soft, his grin was crooked and on the care free side. Adrien didn't have to raise his voice over the crowd for the redhead to hear him loud and clear. Tikki flicked him on the back of his head as punishment.

"I swear, call me ma'am again." Tikki hissed through her teeth. Her mask of glee did not fall as the threat escaped her lips. Tikki believed if she looked happy, customers would complain a lot less. For the most part it worked. "I'll have Plagg take your mask again- away for good this time."

"Tikki-no please don't do that." Panic laced every word. Adrien had his hands in the air as if the gesture would change her mind. "Last time was hard enough."

"I'll forget what you said...if you find Mari." Tikki was more concerned for the missing dancer than a slight insult from the jokester. Her concern was painted all over her face. Mystery was long gone from Tikki's blue eyes. All that was left was worry for her friend. Adrien picked this up instantly. If she was coming to him for help that meant she exhausted all other options. Option one would to ask Chat. Option 397 was to ask Adrien to go searching for her. The mask made 396 differences.

"Marinette is missing?" He twisted in his seat and talked to her directly. Tikki didn't respond. Her eyes were scanning the crowd for any sign of the dancer. Tikki tucked the tray under her arm and brushed her bangs behind her ear. Adrien was not a stranger to this motion. Her hair was never in the way. It fell magically in place every morning. There was no other explanation. Tikki was genuinely worried. "Don't worry Tikki. I swear on my mask that I will find her."

"You don't need to swear on your mask since it's already on the line."

"I'll find her" Adrien was already half way across the lounge before Tikki realised he probably knew all of Marinette's hiding spots. The way he moved towards backstage, the place Tikki looked a million times, gave off a sense he might just know where she is.

"Man," Tikki flipped her tray from under her arm into her hand. It was time to get back to work and refill the tray. "Boy got it _**real**_ bad."

* * *

Marinette dragged her fingers across the velvety material draping in front of her. The bar lobby was beginning to fill up and voices calling her name came more and more often. The flyer told everyone she'd be on stage promptly at nine. Marinette didn't show up to have her hair fixed by Tikki. Marinette didn't make an appearance with Plagg to make sure her music was correct.

She had been hiding behind the curtain for hours now. It was easy to lose her in the folds of the red curtain. Made it a perfect place to chill out before the performance. Marinette was far from chill. She hadn't seen Volpina or Chat and she was beginning to panic.

"Excuse me?" A voice called out to her. Marinette froze. Not moving might work in the movies but not in this situation. Adrien slid behind the curtain and slid to a crouch. He made it eye level and somehow that put Marinette a bit at ease. The curtain surrounded them both. It was Marinette's personal office and her 8:30 had just arrived.

"Its you!" Marinette immediately switched on her awkward switch. How does she explain that she's been watching him every time he walked into the bar? How does she explain that she already planned a future with 3 kids and a hamster? That she wants to know everything about that pure smile of his? All without knowing his name.

"Yea, it's me. I'm Adrien." He greeted her with a handshake. Marinette made a mental note to let her diary know her future husband's actual name. Her grip on his hand was a little tight and shook too hard but Marinette chalked it up to a success. "Everyone wants to know if you're okay."

"Okay? Oh you're more than okay." Her eyes grew wide. "I mean- _ **I'm**_ more than okay. Fabulous. Just...scared." It was such a lame response. Marinette knew why she couldn't move from that spot. At this moment, it didn't matter who Ladybug was. It was her world and not her own. She was just a side character.

Chat Noir made her feel otherwise but he was nowhere to be seen. She checked periodically through the slit in the curtain. His spot remained empty. A couple times a bouncer had to remove a stranger from the seat. Lady Luck was taking their seating arrangements very seriously. At least, Chat Noir's spot.

This was never for her. Dancing? She took ballet when she was younger but she had no desire to continue. It was temporary for sure. Only til Chloe came back or someone else stepped up. She was no longer needed to step in. Her friends weren't there. It didn't matter how much the stage and mask called to her. Someone else could do better.

It wasn't that the stage didn't feel good. It did. Oh god it did. If she could stay up there for more than one song she would. Even if she didn't dance she would be content sitting in the middle of the stage and doing nothing. Dancing is what got her on there but wasn't what was keeping her. So why did she keep dancing? _I wonder if it'd be different dancing with him._

"I-I just," Marinette started. _I'm not a dancer._ The blond boy patiently awaited her response. The more he waited quietly-the more Marinette began to stutter. _I do it for-_ He just wanted to hear her side of the story at her own pace. The world around her muted and the only sound was Adrien's soft breathing. He had finally calmed down after finding her. At this realization the she had caused adrien trouble; her eyes clouded. "H-How could I possibly-"

"Hey-hey." Adrien cooed. Both of his hands found shelter on her shoulders. The tears overflowed to the point she could no longer see the boy. He did not panic nor did he hesitate. A hand glided under her eyes; wiping the sticky tears from her face. "You know, m-my mother used to tell me that if you want to be great you've got to look fear in the face. Even if you're scared, lie."

Marinette leaned away from the helping hand with a smile. Her smile was off. It was definitely not the smile Adrien received every night. No, it was like she was greeting an old friend. "My co-worker used to tell me that. When I was scared...to calm me down."

"Sounds to me you've got a very good friend." Adrien was met with a chuckle. The first since she found her huddled behind the curtain. Her cheeks were rosy and the laughter was lighter than bubbles. Any on looker could see Adrien's cheeks mimic Marinette's.

" _A friend._ " Adrien didn't like the way that sounded. The sarcasm was quick to push away his flushed cheeks and knit his eyebrows in confusion. Marinette stole glances of the audience when the dancer on stage moved out of sight. _Oh Chat noir...where are you kitty._ "He's not there Adrien. What kind of friend is that?"

"I'm sure they are-"

"Maybe it's a sign." Marinette interrupted Adrien before he could continue. She wouldn't look at him. Not even for a second. His appearance reminded her of a certain missing boy who she longed in the crowd. Her pained expression struck a chord with Adrien. "If I run away now, Chloe wins the title and it could be like I never attempted the take the throne."

Adrien twisted around and pulled a piece of plastic from a messenger bag he had been carrying. After unfolding the many layers, the plastic revealed a rose. It was deep ruby red in color and at the peak of its glory. Adrien folded the rose into her hand. The stem was stripped of thorns and cut at an angle. A definite sign he purchased the single rose at a local flower shop. Although the steam was cold-it was not wet.

"I'm sorry Princess, I saw this color in the window-I just had to get it for you for your performance. The deep red means-"

"Passion." They said in unison. Marinette's cheeks heated up. Adrien placed his hands on hers with a gentle presence. His hand guided hers upwards to pull attention to what laid in her hands. Under the rose rested her mask. It was fresh from the machine; just finished this morning. The beads glimmered under the lights of the backstage. They gazed at each other until Marinette dismissed the moment with a chortle.

"I'm not a princess." Dejectedly, Marinette looked to her fingers. The mask was calling to her. Calling to be worn. It would take only two seconds to feel right again. It would take two seconds to be Ladybug. Music flowed past them and Marinette knew that Chloe was going on stage. _She belongs there. Not me…_ She found herself admitting. As much as she wanted to be Ladybug, she couldn't. _I don't-_

"Not all princesses wear tiaras." Adrien derailed the tracks on Marinette's train of thought. He picked up the delicate flower and wove it behind Marinette's ear. The deep red hue of the petals matched her cheeks at that moment. "Some wear flowers."

Adrien dismissed himself after reminding Marinette he would be in the crowd. He showed her a ticket for his seat. It was next to the bar-she wouldn't be able to see him when she was on stage but he would see her. He would be rooting for her. She wove the Ladybug mask through her hair and fixed it to the perfect position. Though the doubts still remained...Marinette stood to her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long you guys. I am a seamstress at a Bridal studio and things picked up so much I haven't had time. Then I sewed through my finger and wasn't able to write for awhile. I still can't very well but I REALLY wanted to post something soon. I was thinking of making a companion story (From Adrien's/Chat's POV) to reveal more that happened that Marinette couldn't follow. Tell me what you think.


	9. Please Don't Stop

Marinette watched the blonde land off the pole with her arms pointed to the air. The clapping was minimal and short lived. Tikki could be seen pushing through the sea of bodies and hoisting herself onto the stage to meet up with Chloe. She implored the crowd for another round of applause before she could welcome on the next act. Chloe was blowing kisses, bowing in random directions, as she strutted towards the back of the stage.

 

Chloe nearly smacked Marinette from how fast she plowed through the curtain to exit the stage. Marinette stepped to the side only to be thanked with a scowl and “try to follow that.” Not giving into temptation, she turned back to the stage and let her eyes follow the bouncers who were removing the extra pieces that were ‘necessary’ for the previous act. Bouncers vanished when the room darkened and a spotlight lit up the area Marinette was hiding in. 

 

The curtain lifted up and there was no turning back. The crowd was underwhelmed by Chloe’s performance. All she had to do was go and finish the challenge. The title was basically hers. At the sight of the tiny dancer, the crowd went ballistic. Tikki was doing the honors of welcoming the girl on the stage and introducing the music that everyone already knew. Flyers were taped to every wall to remind customers when the event was and Marinette would be surprised if someone just HAPPENED to stumble in without having seen a flyer at least once.

 

Marinette, clad in her ladybug overcoat and brand new mask, walked to meet Tikki at center stage. Tikki was announcing to the crowd the history Marinette had with Lady Luck. She was very careful as to leave out details about her everyday life. She mentioned Marinette liked to bake and worked at Lady Luck as their personal seamstress. Marinette didn’t really listen to what Tikki told them. She was distracted by something more important than introductions. 

 

A smile crept onto her face and refused to budge. Her heart skipped more than a few beats when the door to the bar opened and she saw those bright green eyes she’s come to enjoy. Chat Noir pushed two completely unexpected guests into the lobby before following in. Alya and Nino squeezed through to the front of the crowd and took their respectable seats. Nino was wearing noise cancelling headphones and sunglasses which made him look incredibly ridiculous. Marinette chuckled a little on the stage which almost threw off Tikki’s speech. 

 

Nino was most likely on medication that was light and sound sensitive. Alya was holding a giant bouquet the size of the both of them. She positioned it carefully between herself and Nino on the table and pulled out her camera. Marinette bit her lip. That was Alya’s favorite camera to use for the Ladyblog.  _ I will not cry _ . 

 

Chat Noir shuffled around until he found the thing he was looking for in his bag. Marinette’s eyes followed his hands as he pulled out a CD case. It wasn’t too far away to make out the fact it said “The Veronicas” in bright pink lettering. It was the album she was using for her dance. Chat Noir handed the CD silently to his best friend who in turn ripped the new plastic off it as quick as he could. He shoved the disc into a player and shifted through the songs till he found the sixth track. He pressed a few buttons then fixated on the stage.  _ I will  _ **_not_ ** _ cry. _

 

Chat Noir cupped his hands around his mouth and cheered loudly for her. His grin was toothy and bubbly. 

 

_ He went out of his way…that’s why he... _

 

She noticed he had a card and a box of chocolates laying next to him in waiting. The card had “Ladybug” scribbled on a red background with black little hearts strategically placed to make spots on the card. The handwriting was definitely his. 

 

_ I will not-- _

 

Chat Noir’s face fell the next time Marinette blinked. She was blinking more often. Wetness accumulated under the beadwork around her eyes. Over all the commotion she couldn’t hear what he said but in her head she heard clearly. ‘My Lady?’

 

Tikki offered Marinette a tissue to dry her eyes. After they were dry, she looked back at Chat Noir’s seat. It was empty. Frantically she looked around and landed on the edge of the stage. Chat Noir was speaking to her from the stage’s edge. Concern lined every inch of his face but for the life of her, Marinette could not make out any of his words.

 

“Aw, don’t be so humble, Challenger. All I’ve said is true,” Tikki turned to the audience with her voice amplified by the microphone. “Isn’t is everyone?” The crowd went wild. There were hollering of agreement and whistles of encouragement. Marinette was unsure of what Tikki had said about her but it seemed her tears were perfectly timed. She gave a small wave to everyone before thanking Tikki for all the kind words. She assumed they were kind at least. Knowing Tikki, they were overly exaggerated and sugary sweet. 

 

Tikki checked the ribbons on Marinette’s mask to ensure it wouldn’t falter in the dance and shook her hand. “Let’s wish this Lady some luck, folks.” The crowd instantly made the connection. Marinette never heard a crowd so loud. Tikki twirled her hands towards Marinette and reiterates her Challenger title, clapped her hands together, and disappeared through the floorboards of the stage in a puff of smoke. 

 

There were oo’s and ah’s before Tikki spoke again. All heads turned to her sitting on the bar top casually drinking a half empty soda. “Now, if you’ll please, give this Lady her stage.”

 

Marinette couldn’t help but let a giggle slip through. Tikki was having a lot of fun. It was always nice to see her magic slip into more and more shows of grandeur. Marinette couldn’t help but think that every time she practiced magic tricks, she forgave herself a bit more.  Take Me on the Floor by the Veronicas started easing in with the techno notes Marinette had practiced night after night. The music knocked her on her ass in regards of what to do. She spaced a little bit but by the fourth measure, she was back. 

 

“ **_The lights are out and I barely know you,_ ** ” Her lips mouthed the words. Her right hand raised, motioning to Chat Noir, who hadn’t moved from the edge of the stage. Surprise hit him like a ton of bricks but he quickly adjusted back to his cheering. From the get go, the dance was different. The opening was changed and performance was showing no sign of returning to what it had before. Chat Noir couldn’t peel his eyes off the girl dancing before him. It was alright though. Marinette refused to let him go. 

 

“ **_We’re going up,”_ ** through Marinette’s eyes, the room emptied and she was dancing for Chat Noir alone. It wasn’t like the many times he had helped her with the basics. The music was crawling on her skin and leaving fire in it’s wake. “ **_And the place is slowing down._ ** ” She couldn’t wait til the chorus to slide off her jacket. Marinette slid the buttons through their place on the jacket. She released the material and it gladly pooled onto the ground. 

 

**_“I knew you’d come around._ ** ”  Marinette bit her lip and winked at the fan whose eyes couldn’t drag themselves away. She couldn’t fight the urge to smile when she pivoted around to face the pole--knowing fully well that Chat Noir was glued to her behind. 

 

“ **_You captivated me_ ** ,” Marinette threw in some twists and turns that she had previously practiced. “ **_something about you's got me”_ ** She was facing the audience once more with the ribbons that held her hair up teetering in her fingers.

 

“ **_I was lonely now you make me feel alive_ ** .” Her hair was freed from the red tie restraints. With a vigorous shake she made her way down to the edge of the stage. Her hair stuck to her face, which was probably a good thing since it usually gets in the way when it is down. It was clear that Chat Noir saw no one else but her in the room. Marinette squatted in front of him, curled her shoulders forward, and offered her hand. “ **_Will you be mine tonight?_ ** ”

 

Marinette broke her pattern of lip singing and sang that one line to the blond. It caught him off guard and in a moment of weakness--he took it. There was no time for him to calculate what was happening. Hell, Marinette didn’t know what was happening before it happened. She traced her index finger under his chin before jumping onto the middle of the pole.

 

“ **_Take me on the floor_ ** .” The music begged and moaned while Marinette swung around by one knee. Marinette danced and Chat Noir responded. The song was never meant to be a duet but the two executed it flawlessly.

 

The song slipped away into the back of their thoughts. Chat Noir was using his staff to do acrobatic feats to match Marinette’s glamour. He did flips over her. She was full of grace. Their techniques formed into one.

 

“ **_Just take me on the floor._ ** ” Bodies became flushed against each other with fingers tracing up Chat Noir’s crop top zipper to the neck line. This was the only moment Marinette looked away from her staring contest. She seemed more interested in the bell on the pull of the zipper.

 

“ **_I can give you more_ ** ” Chat Noir stiffened the second he grasped onto what Marinette was getting at. His bell drug down his torso with Marinette close behind. Her breath left a trail of sweat of the nervous acrobat. In the same instant, she was standing again.

 

“ **_You kill me, kill me, kill me, with your touch.”_ ** Marinette pirouetted with each pause the song gave. With her last spin her hands cemented to the middle of the pole to support her as her legs flew to the ceiling. With every flip, turn, and ballet move, Chat Noir complimented it.

 

He held the staff completely still. Without giving it a second thought, Marinette threw her body from her place on the pole to the top of Chat’s staff. There were gasps of delight that never made it to their ears. Marinette gained momentum and Chat launched her back to her beginning spot. 

Perfect harmony.

 

Every other move there was a hoop or holler.

 

Where Marinette gave an inch, Chat Noir gave a mile. When Chat Noir gave a mile, Marinette gave him a road trip. A road trip became a continent. The continent became the world.

 

They gave each other the universe in their dance.

 

They truly were made for each other. 

 

“ **_You kill me_ ** ,” Marinette cartwheeled off her spot at the same time Chat Noir made his way towards her and met her in the middle. There were no social cues to perform the way that they did but their moves were tightly knit. You couldn't convince anyone it had not practiced.

 

“ **_You kill me_ ** ,” Chat held his arms forward and beckoned Marinette to him. Marinette picked up her speed and jumped in his arms, curling tightly with her thighs. His grip laid around her hips with her gaze looking down on him. Marinette, despite being without her coat, was drenched in sweat. Chat Noir’s top was discarded around a minute into being on stage. The sweat outlining his toned abdomen in the most sinful manner did not go unnoticed.

 

“ **_You kill me_ ** ,” The way Marinette grabbed Chat Noir’s face was hungry and he was looking like her meal. Her grip commanded attention in which its captive was more than happy to comply. It was practice all over again--except her mind was clear and the dance was heated.

 

“ **_Please,_ ** ” the room blacked out. “ **_Don’t stop_ ** !” Marinette, in excitement, hugged Chat Noir around the neck the second the room went dark. She knew what it looked like on the other side of the stage but she did not care. 

 

Marinette hung around her partner’s neck long past the lights going out. The crowd was deafening and how they were able to block it out for so long---she couldn’t tell. From experience of being on the other side of the stage--Marinette knew they could only see the silhouette of Chat Noir holding her close and the main event vacuum sealed to him. To distinguish where one stopped and the other began was anyone’s game. 

 

The curtain came crashing down followed by the back lights blaring to life. This side of the stage, Marinette had seen for years. She felt like she was finally getting to see the other side of an old friend or even getting reacquainted with them. 

 

“-dy? My Lady?” Chat Noir’s voice broke through Marinette’s thoughts. She laughed and gave her arms some slack but didn’t let go. Her smile lit up the world around them. “Marinette?”

 

“That was amazing.” Marinette breathed. Her glee overflowed onto Chat Noir’s and he drank it in thankfully.

 

“ **_You_ ** were amazing, My Lady.” Chat Noir corrected in the same shortness of breath. Their smiles could blind the whole world. Marinette reluctantly untangled herself but kept her hands on Chat’s shoulders.

 

“ **_We_ ** .” An agreement was harmoniously reached.

 

“Marinette” Tikki’s voice came from a few feet away. The sadness in her voice was off putting but neither of the dancers caught it through their euphoria. Marinette silently dismissed herself and trotted over to her friend.

 

“Tikki did you see how I wa--” Her words were cut prematurely. 

 

“Marinette...you’ve been disqualified.” The three went silent. Somehow it had to be a mistake. It honestly had to be a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being so patient you guys! My finger has made a full recovery and I am almost done with the school year. I'm still working a whole bunch so my time to write is very limited. I probably won't start writing the next chapter til a week from now and then it has to go through the long process. I just really have to study for my exams!! Hope you liked the chapter!


	10. Had About Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has another big nod to the fantasy theme I have here. Just a fair warning. Also, when it comes time, fonts are given to each character to differentiate who’s calling and who’s responding. Chloe is italics and underlined. Marinette is italics and bold. Together they’re italic, bold, AND underlined. Please enjoy the read and I’ll see you at the end of the chapter.

“Dis-Disqualified?” Marinette sputtered. Her first reaction after questioning Tikki’s decision was to question her surroundings. _A dream! It has to be!_ Her fingers pinched a bit of her thigh as she waited for Tikki’s response.

 

“I am so sorry Marinette, I--” Tikki looked at her straight on yet everything in her body language screamed that she wanted to look away. In Tikki’s defense, if she showed any signs of not being serious, Marinette wouldn’t have believed it on first thought. Tikki’s eyes were a smooth calm ocean color glazed over with the mystery Marinette had forgotten was there. Her thigh began to throb but Marinette only continued to pinch harder. _Has to be._

 

“Tikki--You saw her out there.” Chat Noir jumped into action. He stood right behind Marinette, put one hand on her shoulder, and used the other to emphasize his words.

 

“I know.” Tikki’s words were lost to him. No matter what she said at this point it was going to be drowned in questioning. Tikki just stood there and took in the anger that the blond couldn’t contain all the while offering apologies to the grieving girl behind him. Marinette’s thigh was beginning to bruise and tears began welling in her eyes.

 

“They came for her.”

 

“The rules were simple.”

 

“Please make an exception Tikki. She had a whole different dance planned out. Let her redo her dance--the one she planned. I’m sure the crowd wouldn’t mind the extra entertainment.” He had all valid points and Tikki wasn’t fighting that. Chat and Marinette could both see the confliction in Tikki’s face. With an extra few pushes, Chat was positive he could get a do over. Marinette, on the other hand, wasn’t going to press the situation. Rules were rules. _And I broke them._

 

“Listen, Marinette broke the rules and I--” The blond was in the business of cutting opinions off. Tikki right now was his business’s top client.

 

“No! She didn’t! I shouldn’t have gotten on stage!” Chat Noir motioned his hand to his chest so fast that he didn’t have time to stop himself from smacking himself in the chest. The momentum created a loud thud and made his voice waver for a second.

 

“Chat...I pulled you...on...It’s my fault.” With each pause there was a hitch in her breath. Despite her tears, Marinette’s voice was still very quiet. She wasn’t breaking. It was a voice of someone who was taking in a lot of information. The tears were just the excess emotion.

 

“It doesn’t matter who did what. It has already been announced. Chloe remains as Ladybug.”

 

“Well she can challenge her again right? So they can dance again right now.” Push forward. It took less than two seconds for Chat to disobey Tikki’s words and push through the curtains to the platform.

 

Saying the crowd was unhappy was an understatement. There was a group plus a line at the bar demanding to talk to management. Chloe was out on the floor shaking hands of people who, somehow, cheered for her. Plagg was at the counter with his hands up but his words were drowned out by the complaints. It wasn’t mayhem but the bar was losing money by the second.

 

“Everybody...please listen.” Chat Noir begged the audience. He didn’t need to ask twice. Every set of eyes were on him and the tension in the air rose. Plagg was motioning to his throat in a horizontal direction. Either he was threatening him with a swift death or he was telling him to stop talking. Another push forward. “I implore you to stay a moment longer. I would like ev--”

 

He went cold.

 

Marinette’s fingers gently gripped his wrist. Her touch wasn’t timid, shy, or upset. It was--intimate? And determined. Her touch was overflowing with determination. She wanted him to stand down...to stop addressing the crowd. It wasn’t the first time that she asserted herself but every time she does, Chat Noir is taken aback.

 

“I am sorry everyone. I have let you down.” Her voice was very forward and strong. She made her way in front of Chat and held herself like a champion rather than feel bad for herself behind the scenes. “I would like to ask all of you for a second chance.” Chat took notice of the bruise on the back on her thigh very quickly. Guilt filled overflowed and filled any space that wasn’t occupied with strategies to help Marinette out. He wanted to escape the stage but despite Marinette being in front of him, she hadn’t let go of his wrist. “It was wrong of me and I would like to perform again. Ladybug--”

 

Chloe stood still in the crowd with her arms crossed. Her glare didn’t falter throughout the whole speech. Sabrina was at her side, whispering in her ear. A couple of her fans were mumbling amongst themselves.

 

“If you were okay with it. Could we do this over?” Marinette released Chat to offer the opposite hand out to her foe. Chloe’s eyes darted from Marinette to her outstretched hand then back to her. “Fair and square?” There was a huff before Chloe helped herself onto the stage, completely disregarding the help. Sabrina followed her like a shadow.

 

“Well if we do this again. Let’s make it interesting!” No one liked the sound of that. Chloe continued, “I win...again…”

 

Sabrina was in her all black uniform. Marinette knew it was so she could scurry behind the curtains and not be noticed. Although everyone knew her as Ladybug’s extra hand, the all black would often remind some of the staff of a certain cat. There were some times that Marinette suspected she wanted to be more than just a helper.

 

“You abandon all hope of being on stage. At all. Forever.” Sabrina had her chest puffed out and proclaimed terms that she knew Chloe would approve of. In fact, Chloe stood behind her smugly. She was right in her assumptions.

 

“Oh, and you take me on a date.” Chloe tacked on the extra bit. She had pointed behind Marinette then curled her finger and chewed on the nail. “When I win.”

 

“I’m not available.” Chat Noir was quick to refuse.

 

“Oh? And why is that?” The blond froze. He couldn’t say he was together with Marinette. He couldn’t even say that he always thought of her. Marinette has already expressed there was nothing going on. Or rather, refused to disclose something had transpired. He was available...in a sense. “What I thought. Then we have a deal.”

 

“Chat…” Marinette’s tone erred on the side of caution. Her stance said it all. She didn’t want him to agree at the same time she recognized it was his decision. Marinette didn’t want to admit to it, but everything about that deal just made her blood boil. She didn’t want to disclose how she felt about him. Because honestly? She didn’t want to say until she was 100% certain, beyond a reasonable doubt, that she wanted to be with him. That being said...a certain flower child kept her at only 99% positive.

 

“You’re not losing.” Chat reassured her. As if there wasn’t already enough pressure.

 

“And if I win?” Marinette’s voice was challenging.

 

“You become Ladybug.” Sabrina’s answer was obvious. That part of the deal was. On the other hand, Marinette had another bet in mind.

 

“You abandon all hope of being with Chat Noir.” Not obvious at all. _Gotta think fast._ “You are constantly bothering him. I want you to leave him alone.” _Nice one, Marinette._ It wasn’t just a cover up for the obvious but a simple observation. Anyone with eyes could see that Chat Noir despised being pulled around by Ladybug. He never says or does anything about it but it was as plain as day on his face.

 

Chloe and Sabrina shared an expression of shock. The statement had hit them pretty hard in the face. Sabrina wanted to fight for Chloe’s honor and Chloe wanted to simply argue she was never a bother. They also never considered Marinette being a threat to a relationship between Chat Noir and Chloe Bourgeois. Before another word is said, Tikki walks in from stage right with Plagg following not long after upstage.

 

In that moment, it was clear that the owners were mad but allowed the chaos to save the night. “Well? Do you accept the terms of this next dance?” Her question wasn’t directed to any of the four. The customers that had left were filing back in and the answer for Tikki came in hordes of screaming. People who had missed the previous events were packing themselves. Any more and it would start smelling fishy. “The verdict has been overruled.”

 

“And with that a contract has been made.” Plagg wasn’t known for encouraging magic tricks but if the time called for theatrics then theatrics there must be. His arms were held out straight with his wrists flicked up. Tikki stood strong behind him and created a hologram of a contract between the two of them. In green lettering were the bets they had placed. Two empty lines with an ‘x’ to the left laid below the agreement. “All that’s left is the verbal confirmation. For this, we need complete silence.” 

 

You could hear a pin drop.

 

“Ladybug? Do you agree to the arrangement?” Plagg had dropped a pitch or two. The room waited eagerly for her response.

 

“Yes. I do.” Chloe’s response was so forced it almost sounded sarcastic. A scribble on the first line was hard to make out but it was her signature. It was a good thing Chloe never took time to sign anything important so it looked like a line with a little ladybug on the end.

 

“Challenger?” Tikki’s voice had gotten just as stern and mysterious as the day she met her.

 

“Of course. Yes.” Marinette’s signature started to write. As soon as an “M-a” was written in elegant cursive, the contract rolled up, shrunk down, and fell into Plagg’s hands. She let out a puff of relief, knowing her name was still confidential.

 

“Since the decision was impromptu, so will the dance. Duet style.” ‘The Boy is Mine’ by Brandy and Monica eased onto the speakers. The stage cleared the way for the two. Marinette gazed at the pole. Two dancers competing with only one beam. This wasn’t going to be easy. It would take a lot of talent to pull in as much attention as she would need to pull this off.

 

‘I’m Brandy.’ Chloe mouthed to Marinette. Marinette barely caught it but nodded. At least they were on the same page. She would have picked Monica anyways. The lights blacked out and relit in a small dance of red and pink spotlights. The red one fell on Chloe and the pink claimed Marinette.

 

_“Excuse me,”_ Chloe sauntered up to Marinette, making sure her hips were in full swing. When she made it up to her, Chloe planted her hands on her hips and leaned towards her competitor. _“Can I please talk to you for a minute?”_

 

**_“Uh Huh, sure.”_** Marinette crossed her arms causing her body to firm up and seem predatory. **_“You know you look kinda familiar.”_** She pushed the blonde away from her with a finger to her forehead. The proximity between the two was too close.

 

_“Yea, you do too but,”_ Chloe made her way back over to the pole and spun gently once around and looked back at Marinette. _“Umm”_ She swung her tight ponytail.  _“I just wanted to know...do you know somebody named…”_ She pretended to look at her manicured nails then glared over them at Marinette. _“You know his name.”_

 

**_“Oh, yea definitely, I know his name.”_** Marinette passed Chloe and stood stage left with her back to the girl groping the pole. The pink spot light diligently followed its mark. She reached to start fixing her jacket. If it weren’t for the pink light, a blush would be visible on her cheeks. She could either admit that she forgot about the long discarded jacket or she could fiddle with another piece of clothing. Her fingers plucked at the highest point of her lace trimmed top—placing it back to where she felt it belonged. She opted for option two.

 

_ “I just wanted to let you know, he’s mine.”  _

 

**_“Huh?”_** Marinette pivoted and sashayed with the sass of an underestimated queen. The stature of a woman’s rule that would bring nations to their feet. Her hair flipped out perfectly and her eyes stone cold. **_“No, no, he’s mine.”_**

 

The chorus rang about the room and each dancer competed for the center of the stage. For the most part, Chloe was consuming all the time possible on the pole, forcing Marinette to dance around her--almost as support than a competitor. But Marinette was smart. Even if it hadn’t dawned on her just yet, if it was to end here and she had to take one thing from this whole ordeal, there was only one blinding fact.

 

A supporting character, no matter how small, can steal the show.

 

_“I think it’s time we got this straight.”_ Marinette had gotten a hold of the beam and Chloe was dancing around trying to get Marinette’s attention. When Chloe would be facing her dead on, Marinette would twirl and face the other direction. In a moment of unclear anger, Chloe pulled Marinette’s loose hair and forced her to stay in one spot. “ _Let’s sit and talk face to face,”_ her face got extremely close to Marinette’s and she couldn’t shake her loose. Marinette was pulling away but Chloe only kept leaning forward.

 

_“There is no way you could mistake--”_ She finally let go of her hair. Marinette let a huff of relief but even the relief was short lived. Chloe plucked Marinette’s fingers from holding the bar and Marinette fell the short distance to the ground. Everyone who worked at the bar saw this pattern in Chloe’s attitude and it wasn’t popular to the audience. It benefited her none. It was just pure childishness. _“Him for your man, are you insane?”_

 

**_“See I know that you may be”_** Marinette played it off and pretended to brush off dust from her costume. The smirk she wore was 99 shades of sass. It was such a raw emotion that it forced Chloe to return with her own form of expression. Chloe looked at her with disgust. **_“Just a bit jealous of me,”_** Chloe had walked into the trap Marinette laid. To the customers, that’s exactly what it looked like. It looked like Chloe pushed her and pulled her hair because she was jealous. Marinette was playing her like a well-tuned fiddle. **_“Cause you’re blind if you can’t see”_** Marinette rolled to her feet. Her hands laid gently on her chest where her heart was and pulsed it a couple times. **_”That his love is all in me.”_**

 

_“See I tried to hesitate”_ Chloe walked towards the front of the stage and covered her mouth. _“I didn't want to say what he told me.”_ She turned her head to glance at her. _“He said without me he couldn't make it through the day,”_ she feigned an apologetic look while shrugging her shoulders. _“Ain't that a shame?”_

 

The dance soon became more akin to a theatrical cat fight than dancing. Sure, there were some twirls and lots of bouncing but it was mostly a battle. Chloe had gotten so far into it that she had her arms all over the place. Marinette always stood firm in her ‘argument’ and slayed every movement with her expressions. The crowd had grown silent since the beginning. The drama was a train wreck that no one could look away from but didn’t want to admit they were watching unfold.

 

_“He is a part of my life,”_ Chloe had her arms spread out and one leg further than the other as she belted along to the song. She turned around, leaned forward, and pointed to Marinette who was sitting in the air like there was an invisible chair with her back against the cold metal. _“I know it's killing you inside.”_

 

Marinette rolled her eyes for the ninth time. Chloe was getting too much soul into the performance and didn’t focus on how it looked. Her belting was far off key and didn’t match the tempo. **_“From the truth you can't escape.”_** Marinette sang smoothly from her stomach and rolled her arms; first motioning to herself then to Chloe. **_“I can tell the real from the fake.”_**

 

_“When will you get the picture?”_ Chloe didn’t get the hint from Marinette’s sudden stanza of song. Her voice wasn’t bad--it was just off key and off tempo. It could be a reason to dock points from her, but the two girls were lost to it at this point. Marinette tried to warn her. She didn’t get it. There were no second chances. _“You're the past, I'm the future. Get away it's my time to shine, if you didn't know the boy is mine.”_

 

_Saying I’m the past would insinuate that there was anything to begin with._ Marinette checked out for a moment. There _was_ something. She started to think about the moments she practiced hours upon hours together. The way he delicately lifted her as if he was so afraid of breaking her. She saw the glances. Knew the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. He’d stand up for her when she wasn’t around to speak up for herself. He even brought her a flower once. Dark chocolate of all things! She inwardly chuckled as she took a few steps closer so that she was flush against the queen bee. _As if I don’t get enough sweets at the bakery._

 

Chloe added pressure where their chests met. Marinette’s feet were grounded and she didn’t cave to the pressure.

**__ **

**_“I'm sorry that you,”_** once Marinette was inches away from Chloe’s face, Chloe was able to reset her tempo. They sang in sync. It was clear whose voice was whose. All Marinette could hope for was that the duet was able to be properly scored. After this, whomever won is a fair winner. She wouldn’t complain.

**__ **

**_“Seem to be confused.”_** After all. How could she? She gave it her all.

**__ **

**_“He belongs to me”_** Everyone helped her through it. Tikki lent her the old costumes. Nino provided music to dance along to. It was hard to pick the right song most of the time and Nino was there with a computer and a smile. And Alya? How could a person live without the emotional support of a good best friend? And Chat Noir. He pulled it all together in the nick of time.

 

_ “The boy is mine.” _

**_“Chat Noir is mine.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I passed my exams (with a .04% over passing!) Thank you for all those who have patiently waited. Between the last time I updated and today, I posted the first chapter to the companion story. Now, I know most of you haven’t seen it yet. It’s called “In Search of Her Spotlight”. I am currently on the lookout for a good BETA if anyone is interested. I just picked up a second job (at a bakery) so my update schedule is going to look similar to this past update. 
> 
> Who will win? It could go either way to follow the story line! Vote now on your phones!


	11. Finally

As the lights dimmed away and the spot lights ceased their dancing, Marinette could see Chloe’s eyes grow wide and her mouth open slightly. _Fuck!_ Did she say that out loud? In the dim light, Marinette spun quickly to the edge of the stage where her friends who were watching. Nino, despite having on the shades and headphones, could still see. Knowing him, he followed the impromptu competition by matching lips to real words in his head. His face matched Chloe’s. It must have been a three for one deal, because Alya was identical. She reached frantically for her camera that was sitting on the tripod and rewound the last minute and watched it again. After she reached the end, she retraced it another few seconds. Her grip tightened on the camera. She threw her arms up in the air and shouted how much she knew there was something going on.

 

Chat Noir on the other hand was the calmest of them all. He was leaning forward in his seat that had been reserved for him with a big grin on his face. There wasn’t any way of getting out of this. He definitely heard. Every soul from Chloe to the bar heard. They just **_had_** to be quiet on all nights. Plagg finished handing out the last of the drink orders before jumping over the counter. The second he passed over the polished wood, there was a rip in the silence. Whistling and someone yelling ‘Yea, he is!’ was the loudest of what they heard. Under the loudest contenders was regular talking of ‘the new ladybug is hot and already taken. How fair is that?’ and ‘I knew she could win.’

 

In the heat of the moment, Chloe was speechless. Now that people were already saying Marinette won was inconceivable because they hadn’t even come to a vote. She spun to the crowd and was holding her hands out--shouting for everyone to calm down and to come to a vote. If anything, the people grew louder.                            

 

Tikki’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Thank you for attending the 377th battle for the title of Ladybug! May I present to you…” Tikki’s arms showcased Marinette’s tiny frame. Marinette rolled her shoulders back and stood proudly for the crowd. “—Your Champion.”

 

The spotlights flickered before steadily focusing on to Marinette. The bright lights washed out her pale skin and accented her bright red lipstick her friend had forced on her earlier that night. Her dusted freckles were more pronounced and her eyes had never been bluer. The smile laced on her face burned all her the way down to her stomach. It was so big that all her teeth had to separate to compensate. The crowd welcomed her with loud cheering and the sloshing of their drinks in the air.

 

Tikki stood with her arms akimbo next to her. Marinette didn’t need to look over to see those mysterious eyes reveal their final secret. She could feel it. It seeped through her skin and embraced her bones. Tikki’s body was leaking the secret intel that she kept buried this whole time. Her aura was running her hands through Marinette’s hair and feeding her smile. It was intoxicating and even worse—harshly addicting. Marinette was more than familiar and will continue to cherish. It raised her up and made her feel…warm.

 

It was _love_.

 

And it was _pride._

_And Marinette couldn’t get enough._

 

Marinette knew Tikki was proud of her the moment she created her first piece for Lady Luck. She knew that she loved her from the moment the small black card slipped into her fingers. Despite Tikki hiding how much she cared for her charge, it was evident in everything she did. It was her long awaited destiny that she would be emersed in the love of Lady Luck. If she didn’t know better—she’d say she was home.

 

Lost in the overflow of feeling, Marinette hadn’t realized that her friends had climbed on the stage. A bouquet larger than she had ever seen in her lifetime was shoved into her hands. The smell reminded her of the feeling she was receiving. It was the perfect personification of the butterflies soaring throughout her. Alya was smiling and punching her right arm repeatedly with both of her fists. Her voice was just a loud note drawn out over a long period of time. In front of her, Nino gave his sign of approval in the form of a thumbs up and a smile. It was only in Nino’s surprised expression that Marinette knew someone was behind her. Marinette’s head didn’t even make it half way to see who it was before she was hoisted into the air.

 

Chat Noir placed his newly official partner on top of his shoulder and supported her weight with his arm. Alya’s face was beaming with support and mimed Nino’s previous actions. Marinette snaked an arm around Chat’s back and grasped the unoccupied shoulder to hold herself steady.

 

She would never be the same.

 

* * *

 

 

Chloe and her shadow glowered at Marinette from across the room. On an occasion like this, all of the staff would gather in one place. The common room held old faces and introduced new ones. Chat sat against the couch, on the floor, between Marinette’s knees. Alya was at her side and Nino was at Chat’s. Plagg’s words cut through the cloth door as he ushered Alix in with some choice beverages. Some popped with carbonation while others swirled with colors.

 

Following behind Alix and Plagg came Juleka and Rose. These were two girls who didn’t frequent the bar as much as the other dancers. Their appearance was a treat. One wore tall high heels and a short mini skirt that corresponded with a sports bra of the same hot pink color. Her hair touched the delicate small of her back and was what probably had inspired Crayola for the purple crayon. That was Juleka.

 

Beside her was a tiny blonde with large entrapping eyes. She was taking lessons from Tikki to be an opera singer (not that Tikki knew more about singing than the next person).Their fingers were tightly woven and they walked in tandem despite their large height difference.

 

Even without the four inch heels—Juleka was taller than her by at least a few inches, they didn’t mind. They were never apart. When one shows up—the other soon follows. Rose laid down a nice arrangement of cheeses on the table. From the classical Monterey jack to Plagg’s favorite: Cambert. No one could stand the smell, but if it made the grouch’s day? Why not let him feel included?

 

Juleka sat on the arm of the couch and ruffled Marinette’s head in silent recognition. Rose soon joined her (with two cups she found on Alix’s tray) in her hands. She hurriedly shuffled across the floor—her body swaying in attempts to force the spillage to cease. She handed a 3/4th full cup to her partner all the while leaning forward to plant a loud smooch on Marinette’s cheek.

 

The room was so full of life.

 

Happy, _wonderful_ , life.

 

Tikki wasted no time to bring out the cake. Marinette recognized it immediately. In bold cursive writing the cake sang “Welcome Home Ladybug” with a small red ladybug crawling on the bottom of the icing. It was the cake Tikki had bought months ago. Frozen and thawed out again to be here at the party. The cake order that started it all. She had almost forgotten how they met. When the pieces came crashing together, Marinette smiled. Tikki was never intended it to be the way it was. She was never there for a seamstress.

 

The party was had and fun was had by all. The room kept the teasing to a minimal but if any of them had pretended they didn’t hear the declaration would have been a lie. The only one not making a big deal out of it, or even commenting for that matter, was the end of all the jokes. Chat Noir didn’t leave Marinette’s side that night and on no occasion did they talk about what happened.

 

 

The silent acknowledgement was nice in itself but left Marinette itching to know how Chat felt about the whole thing. Yes, he liked her. Common knowledge. What they would do past the initial getting their heads out of their asses was a tighter knit secret. Not knowing was not killing her but was definitely giving her an unsettling feeling. When Chat looked at her, there were no questions. Everything just…was.

 

It was when the group dissolved and was saying goodbyes that Marinette found herself hesitant. She would go home, fall asleep, and wake up and pretend it never happened. Put that track on repeat and it would only lead to more problems. The moment she walked out that door would be pressing the replay button. If anything would change, it was now. Whether the change was for the better or worse was yet to be seen as she approached Chat Noir with her heart in her throat and weakness on her sleeves.

 

“Chat, I…” Marinette ground out. Chat was holding a black shirt but was making no effort to slide it on. Her resolution was strong but her words gracefully fell off the band wagon. What was she expecting herself to say? ‘Hey you’re pretty slick and the only thing that came between you, me, and hot and heavy dancing is the fact that I got flowers from a mystery boy on more than one occasion.’? She inspected her words wisely and compared them to the blond’s expression.

 

“My Lady?” Guilt slapped her in the face when she realized he was expecting an apology along with the lines of ‘it meant nothing’. He was so gentle with her not because they _finally_ came to a _mutual_ understanding but because of disbelief. Strong rooted disbelief caused by her not making up her god forsaken mind because of a stupid 1%. He was content with being around her but not because ‘oh god it’s finally here’ but for more like ‘just for this moment’. Where Chat Noir could just play along that his Ladybug was finally his. Marinette began to form an apology.

 

“You hungry? Want to grab some dinner? My treat.” His words acknowledged her barrier of thoughts and broke them down one by one. _Dinner…that sounds nice._

* * *

 

 

The night was full of laughter and moments of pure joy. Marinette indulged in holding Chat Noir’s hand every step they took towards a 24 hour diner. Despite wanting to be fully immersed in the moment, Marinette found herself losing track of details. She remembered that she ordered food—just couldn’t remember what. She was talking to Chat but couldn’t remember her answer…or even if she answered at all. The mask decorating her partner’s pale face, that she had come so familiar with, was bothering her.

 

Granted, she was also wearing her mask and couldn’t throw a fit. Marinette didn’t bother looking at a clock to know it was past any normal hour. The waitress took one look at their barely clothed bodies with matching facemasks and took it in stride. How often did people come in this diner in costume to make the waitress so dead inside?

 

The meal wasn’t in silence. Far from it. Marinette just _couldn’t remember_ the conversation. Her mind kept flickering back to his mask. Before, she was his equal and he was entitled to keep all the secrets from her that he desired. Tonight felt different. Tonight they were more than equals. They were partners. It somehow felt a little more special…as if there was an unspoken bond. She’d jump into harm’s way for him if so needed. But it wasn’t needed. It will never be needed. They weren’t superheroes.

 

There was no other format to prove to each other their trust to the other than their secrets and identity. Her identity wasn’t hidden. From day one she was known to the whole crew. Sure, when she waitressed, she used a simple rinky-dink mask to hide herself from perverts. Nothing more. Chat knew her but she was clueless to his personal life. The balance was severely off centered.

 

It had only been a few hours and Marinette was already beginning to believe she was being deprived of that equilibrium. There was no significant trust fall or villain to go against together. They were normal ordinary human beings. It was up to her to make her own significant event.

 

There was an abrupt silence drifting through the air. By the way Chat Noir brushed at his hair near his ear, teasing the clips that keep his mask securely in place. There is a halfhearted laugh that followed the gesture that hints at Marinette probably slipped up and spoke her mind or had been staring. Chat Noir brushed it off with a smile and a quick quip that Marinette couldn’t seem to focus on.

 

“I’d take you to a skeevy bar to get your mind off whatever’s got your frilly polka dot panties riding where the sun don’t shine…” Chat’s voice broke through whatever barrier of incomprehension that Marinette had built with his best attempt at a southern drawl.  “But seeing as we both moonlight as fancy circus animals shaking our goodies, bringing shame to our families for generations to come?” Marinette’s reaction must have been greatly desired because Chat seemed to ease up a bit around her. _When did he become tense?_

 

“No, no, this is perfect.” Marinette slipped out of her seat on her side of the booth and stood for a moment. This action caused Chat to go through a bunch of facial expressions. He didn’t expect Marinette to be motioning him to scoot over. Confusion, hurt, acceptance, confusion, confusion, confusion.

 

Happiness.

 

Chat scooted over with an arm outstretched which fit around Marinette’s body perfectly. The skin on skin contact brought a comfortable heat, seized any tension and dispelled it. Dinner forgotten, the couple cuddled in the booth at the ripe hour of 3 am. No one around for miles except sleepy workers and overachievers. There was no one to pass any judgement on them (not that their judgement mattered to either dancer). And if there was a gentle kiss shared between them? Well no one was the wiser.

 

Fingers meshed perfectly and the chatter never ceased. There was too much to talk about to stop. How Tikki found her, first impression of Chloe, and how she tried passing off the outfit onto someone else. How Plagg found him, how it takes a good croissant in the morning to fully wake up, how he sends his assistant to a bakery around the corner every morning, how the fog machine caused him to fall on his ass the first time they used it, and how he lost his breath the moment he met Marinette.

 

Marinette hit Chat in the arm playfully but didn’t pull away. They both knew exactly how they met and there was no breath escaping either of them in those moments. Marinette was sitting at the bar drawing her latest attempt at making Chloe happy. She got a little side tracked and started doodling outfits the second the new Chat Noir walked through the door. He was very distracting to her with the way he walked like a model and knew everyone was watching. Distracting was far from breath taking.

 

He didn’t even notice her at first. She was left to sketch in her book and listen to Tikki welcome Plagg back. She had a pair of earbuds shoved in her ears but nothing was playing. Music was a distraction. Noise was a distraction. Chat Noir was a distraction. He was throwing clothes here and there with no regards for their construction, their integrity, or that the person who made every single article was sitting next to him.

 

The room grew loud with harsh words about Marinette shared between Plagg and Tikki. They both thought she couldn’t hear them, she concluded. They were frustrated that they didn’t have a Ladybug and just when Plagg thought they got one, she was more interested in sewing than anything. It irritated Marinette beyond belief—but she wouldn’t let anyone know that. She was recruited as a seamstress and Tikki had to constantly remind him to shut up. Tikki knew they needed Marinette for costumes. At least, at the time, that’s what Marinette believed. Apparently Tikki and Plagg were on the same page the whole time.

 

Chat Noir had walked up to her and it was automatic for her to turn the page. He wasn’t happy with the shoes. He was holding her favorite, albeit simple, pieces. He was right. There wasn’t any good option for the outfit he was holding.

 

“Did you make all of these?” His voice was rich and warm. Marinette knew in that moment that he was going to be a problem. What kind of problem she wasn’t sure but a problem none the less. They sat together for the next few minutes drawing out his dream boots. He still wears them to this day regardless how many times she offers to make him a new pair. That somehow made her happy—but still far from breathless.

 

It was easy to talk to Chat Noir. Pressed against each other, they continued to share experiences and desires. Well, not real desires as much as “One day…I’m going to make Plagg eat something other than smelly cheese!” or “Green and black would look good on you too. I am going to get you to invert the costume colors.” on Chat’s part. Marinette would counter just as smoothly with “as if” and “never in a million years.”

 

“I think they’re going to kick us out.” Chat laughed. That’s all they were doing. Laughing. He guessed he was a little too loud for the diner’s taste. They had been there for an hour or two and even Marinette knew that was way past their welcome. Chat tried pushing Marinette from the booth but Marinette stood firm while gripping a menu.

 

“Uh—“ Marinette made a soft noise of disapproval. Leaving meant going home. She wasn’t ready to walk away from the fun she was having. “I was going to force you to buy me dessert too!” She feigned hurt and looked at the menu. There was nothing really appealing to her at the moment but she was sure she would be able to pretend it was something she was looking forward to all night. Her eyes narrow in on the bottom line of the dessert menu. _Macaroons._

 

“I want to see if these are as good as the ones I make.” They ordered a couple without hesitation and took it to go. Marinette waited by the door while Chat paid the bill. She couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying but she didn’t miss a €20 note handed to the waitress. At first she looked confused but soon accepted it. Whatever he said to her had to have been convincing. Although tipping was only uncommon, not unheard of, tipping the same amount as the bill was absurd.

 

“Give me one.” Chat Noir reached over and tried to grab a macaroon from the Styrofoam container. The words posed more as a question than a demand—at the same time he was moving forward to forcefully take one. Marinette deflected his advances and popped a purple one in her mouth. It wasn’t good as hers, as she soon found out, but they remained edible. There were four nicely lined in the Styrofoam. Three—now that Marinette helped herself to the blueberry flavor.

 

The walk home proceeded to be jokes and gentle pushes. Hand brushing and sly smiles. Marinette’s house was close but apparently Chat Noir’s was closer. In their search to extend the night, Chat Noir invited her to come see his apartment. At the time, the remark had been pretty innocent. Closer to the apartment, Marinette began to get tense.

 

_No shit Sherlock._ Marinette cursed to herself. _Of course he’s expecting—_ Marinette couldn’t even finish the thought. It was rude to believe that Chat would do anything that Marinette didn’t approve of. Just because she accepted an offer to see his place doesn’t mean anything. It had to have shown that she was slightly withdrawn because Chat loosely intertwined his fingers and said in a very solemn voice, “Only a tour.” _Unless you’re down._ Marinette added mentally. Chat had been trying to jump her bones since day one she’s positive. “Swear.”

 

Marinette appreciated his concern. She wouldn’t have accepted his offer if he was anyone else. Chat Noir looked at Marinette like she personally hung the stars in the night sky. Every time she brought out a new piece he would be the first to tell her it’s her best piece yet…and mean it. He was the most impatient person she knew and yet he would wait as long as he needed for Marinette to get around to helping him. His eyes just glowed when Marinette spoke to him.

 

Sometimes she wondered if he saw her look at him in the same way.

 

It was stupid to wait to see if feelings grew for the flower child. He was just a fan. A very cute fan but a fan none the less. It shouldn’t have stopped anything from forming between the two friends. A warmth spread like wild fire throughout Marinette’s body at the thought. _This is right. This feels right._

Marinette squeezed the fingers in her own and smiled at her… _would ‘boyfriend’ be too soon?_ They finished off the macaroons and tossed the Styrofoam in a waste receptacle as they came up to the front door of the apartment complex. It was built like a townhouse. One door with multiple floors.  In this part of town? It probably cost a fortune. The reds and browns of the brick were to die for and the dark green shutters matched it perfectly. It would make anyone stare in pure amazement at just the architecture.

 

Chat unlocked the door and held it open for his date to walk herself in. Marinette smirked, sauntered casually up to him and tried pushing Chat Noir into the house before her. Being the gentleman he claims to be, Chat refused to go in first. They play fought for a good five minutes before Marinette overtook him. They both tumbled into more than a few feet through the threshold of Chat Noir’s home.

 

When they met the wall, their laughter erupted. Both of them knew what was in their drinks was nothing more than sweet syrup and bubbles. With all the stress from the past few weeks, laughter was long overdue. For tonight, the world was theirs. Nothing could get in the way of that.

 

Chat Noir leaned down to kiss Marinette but she was too distracted to reciprocate. Her hands were locked on her knees and her voice began to rasp from lack of air. When Chat finally saw Marinette let loose—the lack of attention went unnoticed. His lady was there, in his apartment, and he had more than just time.

 

After Marinette regained her composure, or what little she could pull together, Chat let go of her shoulders to wobble on her own. As she walked, she removed her shoes without diverting her eyes from the décor. Chat leaned against the frame of the living room’s entry way and let her figure things out. Marinette was looking with her hands more than she was with her eyes. When the tips of her fingers collided with another piece of furniture, Chat would introduce her to it.

 

“Wall, wall, door, lamp, wall again.” This brought back giggles to the both of them. It was only the entry way and since there wasn’t much to discover, her hands eventually found their way back to Chat’s bare chest. She ghosted over him for a moment before settling to a spot of choice.

 

“Does this tour stop at the door?” Marinette’s voice was playful and was every bit of teasing to the blond. Chat’s eyes scanned her every inch looking for some sort of sign. Anything to say it was more than a joke.

 

“I will never stop showing my lady what she wants to see.” His words rolled off his tongue as a purr. Apparently it was the correct response to her question by how her body leaned in towards him. Marinette grew mischievous—causing her to drag her hands down to his belly button.

 

“Never?” Her response feigned innocence. She was gazing at her hands and the trail her nails gently left behind. Her eyebrows couldn’t go any higher as she pretended she didn’t know how she was affecting him. Chat gulped.

 

“Never.”

 

Marinette’s expression spoke thousands of words but one phrase came out loud and clear without being spoken _. I’ll hold you to it_. Chat proceeded to show her his living room, his kitchen, his bathroom, hell, even his closet. Marinette repeatedly asked to be shown more and Chat was deliberately leaving out the bedroom as to not tempt himself. Marinette picked up on it and continued to press.

 

“So there’s nothing more?” She made sure to sound almost disappointed.

 

“Nothing.” Chat was resolute.

 

“So where do you sleep?” As soon as her question escaped her lips, Chat Noir came up with a rebuttal. He was leaning against the frame of the door to the unexplored room with as much chill as he possibly could.

 

“I don’t sleep.” He lied. How could he be chill when he looked like he was lit on fire and let loose next to a gas station?

 

“Chat…”

 

 “Alright you caught me.” He threw his hands into the air. “The window. The draft sometimes keeps me up but the sight at night is worth the cold.” He motioned to the small window above his couch where he had thrown a pillow a few nights ago in anger. It seemed to make the story work but Marinette wasn’t having it.

 

“How appropriate.” She laughed. The way her smile pressed into her cheeks almost hurt. Smiling and laughing took a lot out of her. It was clear from the eyeroll that was gracefully executed that she wasn’t believing him even for a second. Marinette tugged on Chat’s wrist and rolled through the now opening door with Chat fumbling in soon after.


	12. Unusual You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. I have been going and working two jobs and moved and it's been a lot of fun. It would have been longer but I felt like you guys have had enough time waiting. If you couldn't tell from the chapter before it, this chapter is going to be mature. Tread carefully, my loves.

The world came to a screeching halt in the moments that followed Marinette and Adrien crossing over the threshold. Every move was executed in slow motion and Marinette was caught smack dab in the middle of it. There was a fire brewing beneath her skin kickstarting her feet and prickling her fingers to urge her to remove what was left of the clothes. Given that there were barely any clothes between them gave her justifiable cause to refrain. 

 

There was no arguing that their contact was the reason she felt like her skin was ablaze. Chat latched to her neck and otherwise seemed unaffected by what was slowing Marinette down. He kissed up and down her neck; leaving bright reminders of who had passed through. Some were harsher than others but all of the varied marks were welcomed. She didn’t blame Chat for leaving marks on visible areas. With each kiss she wished she had done something sooner.

 

Marinette silently welcomed them with her hands laced through his blond hair and gentle moaning into his ear. They barely made it a few feet into the room before their breathing became labored and more often forgotten. When their mouths met, it was only the deep seated pain in their chest to remind them to pull away and gasp for air.

 

When their mouths did take the time to meld together it was wet, heated and craving. Marinette would tilt her head to deepen the kiss and Chat would accept anything she was willing to give him. There was pulling, sucking, and occasional nipping at her bottom lip and gentle pecks to the top. Marinette wrapped her arms around Chat’s neck and in one swift motion, tangled her legs around Chat’s waist. Chat’s breath hitched before instinctively casing Marinette’s legs with his arms. He knew that she could support her own weight. She didn’t need help holding herself up but it was a good excuse if he ever saw one. His hands wandered until he found Marinette’s bottom and used it to pull her flush against his chest.

 

The polka dots brought a wet warmth to his abs and it made him grin into her mouth. The way Marinette was frantically kissing him was causing her whole body to move with her motions. Neither of them could differentiate if it was intentional that she was grinding against him with every kiss she administered or not. Marinette jumped when a tongue glided against her swollen bottom lip and she pulled back. The shock lining Chat’s eyes rivaled the pounding in her chest.

 

“My Lady?” Chat’s voice was apprehensive and 100% willing to stop if it had freaked Marinette out that much. It took Marinette a second to gather herself before leaning back into him. There was no reason that she panicked like she did. No reason she could find at the moment at least. She reciprocated the act and Chat responded accordingly. Marinette mapped the inside of Chat’s mouth as he explored hers. When she had her fill of the walls she moved to his tongue. It was instinctual and everything came naturally. When she curled so did he. When she pulled back for air it was at the same time as her partner.

 

Marinette leaned her forehead against Chat’s and took a moment to breathe until her heavied pants lead to light puffs of air. Chat dropped them both onto the bed that Marinette didn’t get a good look at. She entered the room backwards so for all she knew it was a twin sized mattress on the floor. But frankly, it could have been a pillow in a garage for all she cared. Chat pinned her by the wrists and planted kisses all over her abdomen. 

 

Each kiss talked to her in a way she hadn’t felt before and the slow motion feeling came rushing back. Chat’s eyes darted up and examined hers. Marinette gasped when she was forced to acknowledge that she had gone completely still. No longer was there any grinding between the both of them. Just dead silence. The kisses ceased and Marinette stared at the ceiling. She swallowed.  _ No. _

 

“My Lady…is everything okay?” Chat didn’t let go of her wrists but leveled out to look at her straight on. Marinette did everything in her power to make sure she didn’t meet with Chat’s eyes. She had come this far. It angered her that she kept hesitating. She took a big breath before rising her hips to meet his and grinding hard against him. It was all the power she had in her current position. She could feel the excitement that had risen within Chat riding against her own. It felt good. It felt damned good.  _ So why… _

 

Marinette wanted to appease the burn between her legs. She wanted to pacify all the wants that her body had. When Marinette met Chat’s hips, his came crashing down on hers, rubbing black against red. Pleasure shot through her veins and escaped through swollen lips. This is what she wanted. She was 100% sure. Her wrists were brought together and held under one palm as the other begun to travel.

Her bustier was lifted on one side and the sudden cold was relieved by the warm touch of the wandering hand. It was slowly cataloguing everything it discovered and tested its bounds. Marinette writhed under every touch and the pleasure seemed to be ceaseless. Chat was gentle and kissed in the places that his hand abandoned.

 

Her hips only continued to urge the boy on—beckoning him to be some sort of sweet release. Her bra, never being fully removed, bounced back into place when the hand steered away. Without her consent, Marinette’s lips released a groan of disapproval at the lack of touching. The hand had a new mission--grazing down her belly to the lip of her panties where it played with the frills on the edge.

 

It wasn’t till her panties were breached that Marinette’s eyes shot open. Her head was filled with tiny voices that didn’t match anyone she knew. It had to be her inner voice. The voices talked at the same time but said the same thing.  _ Wrong. Wrong. _

 

“Okay…hey listen we’re okay.” The voice was guarded.

 

Marinette’s stomach dropped when Chat removed himself completely. The only thing stopping her from being physically ill was the embarrassing fact she just shut down the man she was attracted to but never let herself have. Though saying it was embarrassing was letting herself off easy. It was clear she was mortified.

 

Marinette lied still on the bed while Chat backed off and stood a few feet from the bed. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” The words were hurt but understanding. Marinette couldn’t see any reason not to have sex with the person who turned her inside out like he did. She wanted to. God knows she ached for him to touch her again. Just something in her head wasn’t clicking properly. ‘Fight or Flight’ was activating any time they got too close. She cursed herself multiple times. Over and over.  _ What’s wrong with me? _

 

“Hey hey hey.” Chat rushed to the side of the bed so that he was head on with Marinette. Marinette wasn’t crying but her chest was pulling itself apart like it was. Chat smoothed his thumb over her cheek while cooing the affirmations, ‘its okay’ and ‘we’re okay’ over and over again. Marinette could only gather her emotions that laid in the forefront of her mind. So much was going on that she couldn’t possibly process it all at once. The main runner was anger. Not at Chat. At herself. How could she possibly do this? She built herself up and now her—she was—she ruined it.

 

“Chat…” She broke into cries that were long and hiccups coincided with every word. She tried to apologize. The only thing she could do was say his name. He should be mad at her. She led him on. Why couldn’t she just get it together? She wanted him. She wanted to have sex. She planned on giving him have the best night of his life. “Chat…chat…”

 

“I’m not mad…” Chat’s hand carded through the dark hair and unraveled the ponytails from their holder.  _ Patience. Kindness. Love. _ His traits that Marinette fell for on the daily were seeping in the air. It was so thick, Marinette could swear she could taste every individual one and describe them.

 

“You should be!” The volume of her statement took Chat Noir aback.  _ Scared. Confused. Patience. Love. _

 

“Why?” Chat Noir retreated from Marinette’s line of sight. When she was absolutely sure he wasn’t standing over her, Marinette angrily swiped at her face to remove the few stray tears. They weren’t created in sadness and she would not be brought down by them. She was mad. She had to get over it. The kind, sweet, understanding boy wanted to comfort her. Comfort is done. The question now was how to move forward from this.

 

“Because you’ve changed your mind?” Marinette sat up on the bed futzed with her top. There was time. She could fake feeling ill and try another night. Their relationship didn’t have to suffer at all. She just had to—“Marinette…” She froze. “No means no. It’s okay, I respect that.”  _ Respect. Respect. Love. Respect. _ “I’m not going to force you to do something you’re not ready to do.”

 

“Yea, I know you wouldn’t but I—“

 

“—am not ready.” Chat finished her sentence. Marinette froze. It wasn’t what she was going to say at all. In all honesty, she didn’t know what she was going to say. She was making it up as she went. The warmth she had boiling under her skin had condensed and gathered in one area. Marinette clenched her fingers over her heart.  _ Warm.  _ **_warm. Warm, warm, warm, warm._ **

 

Marinette searched around till she found her boy standing by his stereo. A soft beat was pounding through the lining over the speakers. When the music took a crescendo it was just as loud as the bar, if not louder. The warmth grew. Chat was trying to drown out her thoughts. Whether they were positive or negative at this point it didn’t matter. He wanted her to calm down. A smile unexpectedly made an appearance.  _ This boy... _

 

She read his lips when his voice was lost. “Dance with me?”

 

Marinette stood up and laced her fingers into the offered hand of her partner. The second she touched him, Marinette guarded herself to feel the slow motion she feared would resurface. It did not come. Chat Noir guided her to lean up against him. An arm around Marinette’s waist and the other joined with her own, the song was soon introduced. A ballet? No. A ballroom.

 

**_“Nothin’ about you is typical. Nothin’ about you’s predictable.”_ ** The smile on Marinette’s lips came into full bloom. Britney Spears. She tried to hide a chuckle.  _ At least he didn’t pick Toxic _ . “ **_You got me all twisted and confused.”_ ** Chat leaned close to Marinette’s ear and whispered with the cd.  **_“It’s so you.”_ **

 

She prayed that he wasn’t going to sing it all of it. If he did, she’d determined she’d probably leave. His singing wasn’t exactly on key or anything to write home about. Despite that, Marinette would write a book, publish it, and advertise a copy of it repeatedly about how much she loved her blond partner’s voice. There would be chapter upon chapter about his yowling that he called singing and how it lit her face up every time. Sometimes it’d come off as romantic. Sometimes seductive (yet rarely). No matter how it came off—she loved it even so for it was just for her.

 

**_“Up till now I thought I knew love. Nothing to lose and it's damaged cause its pattern to fall as quick as I do._ ** ” Chat was leading her step by step in a waltz. Carefully stepping from side to side as to not step on any toes. His face always close to hers.  **_“But now.”_ **

 

Chat Noir’s eyes traced her face and committed it to memory as if he would blink and she’d be gone. The music blared but the room was as good as silent to Marinette. Her brain was at rest and all she could do was sway with each step with her partner. It was relaxing. She only caught a few lines of song here and there. Marinette laid her head against Chat’s chest and listened for a beat. When she located the soft thumps, she felt her body melt against his and sync to match his heart’s tune.  _ This boy...Chat... _

 

“ **_Maybe you’re not even human cause only an angel could be so unusual…”_ ** Chat hovered a hand over Marinette’s hair before deciding it was safe to card his fingers through her hair. Marinette nuzzled into his chest and sighed at the feeling. He stopped spinning her in exchange for leading them both in a twirl. He kept her close.  **_“Sweet surprise...I could get used to...unusual you.”_ **

 

They stopped moving but the music continued on. Marinette slowly met gazes with Chat and both of them held their breath. She slid her hands up and grazed the black material. Chat held his breath and watched her fingers carefully. Hesitant...yet not stopping.  _ This boy... _

 

**_“When I'm with you, I can just be myself,”_ ** Marinette let the mask fall over her arm and to the floor. It was a millisecond that she saw the skin that hid beneath it. Chat was kissing her eyes and she couldn’t get a good look. Giggles erupted from the both of them. In those moments, she didn’t care who he was. 

  
_ I’m so in love with this boy... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.


	13. Curtain Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the delay my friends. After the American election I kinda lost all will to do anything. Then I had a big personal hurdle to jump over and I lost someone very important to me. I based the reactions of how Marinette and Adrien react on him. This chapter is for the boy I will never see again but the lesson will always be in my heart. I grieve and ache but you gave me something rare and to be desired. 
> 
> And on a brighter note...this story was created for a person who grew into a life long friend. They live 42 hours away from me across the border but in two weeks I am going to meet them face to face. I could not be more excited.

“Chat” Marinette giggled and tried to push back from the assault of kisses. Her attempts were small and the pressure was near non-existent. Each kiss gave her a sense of peace. She was content with how things panned out, she decided. She loved the boy under the mask and he loved her. That’s all she needed to know. The identity was just a bonus she was about to redeem.

Familiar green eyes awaited for her when her eyelids fluttered open. She knew them from anywhere. Their noses touched from the close proximity. Marinette had to lean back in Chat’s grasp to get a good look at him. His arms tightened around her waist to accommodate for the extra weight as she lolled back into hands. He would never let her fall. Silently, they both knew this to be true. His face was instantly matched with one she had met prior to this night.

“Adrien?” The boy who gifted flowers. Many things were said through petals and aromas. All from the same boy. Her boy. Adrien had a gentle smile on his face despite the fear radiating off of him. His grip was tight but if there was any indication from Marinette that she wanted to run away, he’d let go.

“Yes?” His swallow are audible.

“Adrien…” Marinette tasted the name on her tongue. Though not foreign, it left a taste to be desired still.

“Hi.” Adrien’s face was calm and collected but his voice shook.

“I’m Marinette.” Marinette thought she was grasping a hold on the situation but as the moment dragged on, her mind didn’t wait for her to catch up.

“Yes.” Adrien’s voice was every bit of patient.

“And you’re Adrien.” The tension flew out the window. Marinette’s face crinkled with laughter that was every bit contagious. She curled back into Adrien’s bare chest and tried to stifle the flow of vowels and amplified noise; non coherent. Adrien’s head tilted with a gentle smile as he glided his fingers through Marinette’s tousled hair.

They wouldn’t get to talking any time soon.

And when the giggles finally subsided the only sound either could hear was each others breathing. Adrien's heart was caught in his throat yet Marinette could catch the rhythmic drumming of it. The radio was still on but neither paid it any mind. You could say they stood there for days—swaying every once in awhile to a stray laugh or smiling at nothing in particular.

“Why didn't you tell me...” Marinette's voice was neither sad nor disappointed. Everything in the air was positive and smiles were in over abundance. “Did'ya think I'd only be in it for the looks?” She danced her fingers up his sides to emphasize the joke on her tongue. “Not everyone strives to be in the Agreste line.”

There the ball dropped. When Marinette glanced back up to look at his face he was looking away. She had jabbed at the reason. His eyes were looking everywhere but her at the moment and they swirled with fear and discontent. Marinette felt the tension and jumped to scare it away as soon as it arrived. “Hey, hey, hey.” With each word her hand lightly tapped his cheek til he returned to looking at her square on. “I did not fall for Gabrielle Agreste, fashion icon of the world. Nor did I fall for the pretty face on billboards.” Adrien clasped his eyes shut only to be tapped repeatedly till he opened them again.

“Adrien...I fell for the boy who did everything in his power to grab my attention. The silly alley cat that got up and danced with me in the middle of the stage without a care in the world. The boy who'd walk me home and dish out as many cat puns as there was time. You're more than that, Adrien. You're my Chat Noir.” Adrien swooped low to catch her lips and more giggles followed.

It is _always_ best to nip fear in the butt as it sprouts. And what Marinette had with Adrien was rare and irreplaceable. And they both knew it.

“I don’t know why I was freaked to see who was under the mask...It wasn’t like you were going to be frankenstein.”

“It’s okay…I was freaking out a lot too.” Adrien followed up with.

“You? Suave playkitty like you?” The air had gone back to being light and bubbly. Snide remarks and playful teases passed back and forth. Marinette bopped his nose at the end of the sentence as if going for the final strike.

“Playkitty? What makes you think I had time for something like that?”

“Flirt.” A kiss. “Flirt” A pat on the chest. “Oh and you are a major flirt. The second you had your hands on me you knew exactly what you were up to.” A loving gaze to her long time friend and recent lover.

“I’ll give you three reasons.” Adrien kissed her left eye and made it close. “My Lady.” The right. “Princess...Marinette.” and lastly on the lips. They were both content in the moment and the night bent to their will and lasted a lifetime.

* * *

 

They started going to the bar less and less each week. They memorized the way to each other's flats and found solace in being in each other's space. A shiny newly cut key was found on each of the rings as the weeks went on. Marinette tried her best to find her way back to the bar but night after night she failed. A toothbrush finds its way onto the sink and an extra pair of slippers come into creation.

Box after box appeared in Adrien's hallway and Lady Luck was completely forgotten. Friends would bring up questions like “How did you meet” and the story of a pole dancing bug was always on the tip of their tongue but never passed the lips. It was as if they had always known each other. There was no beginning just always the middle with no end in sight. They were both fine with that.

When Adrien asked Marinette to be with him till the end of his days there was no other word that day than yes. The ceremony they had was simplistic yet stylish. Marinette guided each and every stitch of the bridal seamstress until it reached perfection. She insisted on not working on it herself, since it was her special day, yet couldn't stop dictating how it went. Every flower was directly in place and no one argued with the bride. No one understood why the theme was ladybugs and black cats but for some reason it suited them.

A few stray figures came and went in the back unnoticed. The strangers spoke many languages but one flourished in Italian. No one was the wiser when the Italian slipped back out with a tiny pixie like red head girl and tall serene man. They blended in and out as quickly as anyone could notice them.

When she gave birth to her first born, Emma, the world turned upside down for the both of them. Adrien stopped being a model for his father's industry and stayed home to watch the child grow up. With how much he made and set back, they were both able to relax til the second one came around. Adrien stayed home and Marinette opened a small boutique. Emma toddled around the storefront day after day helping her mom dress the forms and straighten the jewelry. It became ingrained in her to help out her mom in the shop every day.

The door chimed and Emma, now 19 years young, sprung to her feet. “Hi, welcome to 'It's Miraculous'! How can I help you?” Marinette smiled and continued sewing in the back room. Her fingers looped in and out of the belt she was repairing as she listened to her daughter greet the customer. Her eyes were heavy, closed, and at peace with what was going on around her. Hugo was chattering about his homework and Louis about his cooking classes. It was anything but quiet.

“I was hoping to get this repaired. It meant a lot to a friend of mine.” A familiar voice rang through the shop. It didn't strike as odd to Marinette's ears to hear a familiar voice. The majority of her customers were repeats and long time coming. Emma's voice was stiff and professional. A flag raised. If Emma didn't recognize a face, it must be an old friend. The voice sounded maybe 21 or 22 years old—and Marinette could not place it for the life of her.

“Beadwork and lace? No problem. My mom is the best around for that. That'll be--” there was a pause and Marinette perked up. “Oh, I'm sorry that's too much...Here...” the sound of money being exchanged around clicked and clacked and clacked.

“I'm sorry I don't know the exchange rate here.” The voice continued on. “Think of it as a tip.” Scribbling. “And my card. Could you call me when it's done?”

“Yes ma'am.” Marinette pulled herself from her chair and walked over. She drew back the curtain in time to see a splotch of red hair greet a tall figure outside and walk together in tandem down the road. On the counter was a single red and black polka dotted mask. “Mom?” The color drained from Marinette's face.

“ADRIEN!” Marinette's voice boomed before she darted for the door. Adrien came falling down the stairs with a jacket being slung around his shoulders. They both crashed through the door seconds after the two people had left yet they were nowhere in sight.

Emma walked out the door with a card in her hand. “They left this and asked me to call...but there isn't a number.” A black card with green lettering was presented to Marinette with intent that she take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it guys. The actual story is over with. I am sorry that I couldn't take you on a longer journey but this is has been the end for a while now. I wanted to make this chapter longer but I also wanted to keep it short and to the point to show how quickly time could pass you by. If you still have questions about some things they will be answered more clearly in the companion story. Hope you stick around. I love you all...and thank you for reading. 
> 
> \--Artist


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